Sometime in June 2005, shortly following his break-up to Olivia Newton John, Patrick McDermott went on a fishing trip and never returned. He was aboard a boat aptly named Freedom, which sounds like lame and calculated symbolism. Lame like how after kill your wife and the cops search your hard drive they find you’ve downloaded the lyrics and the song “Used To Love her” by Guns N’ Roses the day before.
His disappearance went unnoticed for nearly a week after he was reported missing. The passengers and crew were more conflicted than Anne Heche at a sex party as to whether or not he exited the boat when it arrived in San Pedro. In 2007, Dateline hired a private investigation company to find out. Three years after failing to find the missing man, the Coast Guard investigation was concluded and McDermott was presumed drowned, then…Scooby and the gang got a clue. He was sighted in Puerto Vallarta.
When this story broke, I reminded of my glory days as a child dancing around to the 45 of “Physical” by Olivia Newton John, but I chalked this up to an accidental drowning. All sorts of people seemed to be falling off cruise ships and vanishing at the time. Since I’m not one for conspiracy theories except 9/11, Roswell, a man on the moon and Anna Nicole’s death, I rolled my eyes when the Dateline episode highlighting the incident aired. Slowly, I was beginning to think the Dateline producers weren’t the only ones thinking the disappearance was a little too mysterious even for Tila Tequila to swallow. The more I watched, I arrived at the conclusion that Patrick McDermott is one stupid motherfucker.
The investigators were tipped off after noticing a similar collection of IP addresses were logging into the website following his whereabouts from the region they presumed he was hiding. This man was running around on boats up and down the coast of Mexico and popping into tourist towns. He also made stops into heavily traveled ports where investigators were actively questioning people and had all but put a mural of his face on every corner. Eventually, he started faxing “friends,” enlisting help to escape the hunt. Dear Patrick, you’re doing it wrong. Working on a tourist boat and going by the name Pat Kim is more of a giveaway than figuring out Garth Brooks is Chris Gaines.
He has now grown weary from his running, allegedly spurred by financial problems but possibly Grease 2, and has resigned to telling the world he is in fact alive. “Pat Kim” has offered up handwriting samples, voice recordings and even DNA to once again gain “freedom.” We’ll just have to wait and see how the worst life escape ever unfolds.
I’d recommend that the next time he at least try more than a haircut to hide his identity. Sport the “Hulk-a-Mania” look. Don’t try to track the people tracking you through their website and don’t go to tourist towns. I’ve been following this story for far too long now. I’ve got that terrible anticipation like when they end All My Children before they reveal a big seductive moment. We’re all watching now, Patrick: will you do an interview with Oprah? She’ll give you patsy questions but will stare you down like she means it and you won’t get anything under your chair. I hate waiting.
