What can you say when somebody as well written and traveled as Anthony Bourdain passes on?
It was a shock. I came home from a long introspective drive from New Hampshire, and sat in the car. I was listening to music and thinking about all the bullshit in life. I hatched a plan to get away from it all. I pulled up a ticket to head to Bali, Indonesia and planned to leave as soon as tomorrow. Why? My life has been a constant circle of running toward or away from something.
I'm not sure why Anthony killed himself, but I pass no judgment. Whether it's a sudden intense overload of emotion or simply getting sick of the day to day survival, I understand and respect.
What do you say to somebody that's traveled, cooked for, and written about the world long before you ever left North America? You have all this built up sadness invested in the situation but it's hard to express it.
I feel that sentiment, but at the same time, writing has always been an outlet to me. When I feel something, I like to write about it. It might be serious, or even completely ridiculous, but something about being able to type out words to outlet those emotions has pushed me through some rough times.
What do you say about somebody that lived their life, met all these people, wrote these stories? What it comes down to is I don't know what he was going through and I can't and won't judge him. People jump in to judge suicide as selfish. What if some of these people have been dealing with and surviving all this shit for years?
Mental health is a fucking crazy topic. We dance around it all day with euphemisms. Honestly I don't know why Anthony Bourdain killed himself, I really don't. I do know through my own struggles, the amount of desire, the wish for peace, and just to rest for eternity. It can be so intense, it's hard to understand if you've never felt it, but that pull dragging on you daily can become a massive, massive weight.
So what the fuck do I write. Some guy that could transcend language and culture with food and words is dead. He could write about all of the above in a way that would intrigue even the least favoring person of food. Hell, the last meal I made around lunch time was 2 hotdogs. I'm not a chef, I'm not a writer, I'm not a hardcore traveler, so why do I feel so strongly?
Anthony Bourdain broke down barriers. You could give 0 fucks about a meal and he would somehow sell it in a method you couldn't resist. He could cook you something, or take you to a restaurant where you felt the culture, and absorbed a little peice of the place. We take that kind of knack for granted sometimes. His words made you hungry for food, travel and culture. One meal, one episode, wasn't enough. You simply craved more. One more meal, one more adventure, one more wild episode!
To the man that truly lived! To the man that traveled as hard as I someday hope to achieve! To the man who's words and actions, transcended national and cultural boundaries! To you Anthony Bourdain, I salute you. You traveled the world and your words swept me up for the ride and for that I thank you dearly. May you sincerely rest in peace!