My wife waited until I began to stir from my sleep. For some time that morning she could hear the texts buzz my phone and knew exactly what they were about.
Before I had even opened my eyes she whispered, “Lou, Bourdain is gone.” I jumped. For a second, in my twilight mind, I thought for sure I had heard her wrong or I had dreampt what she said. It was only after grabbing my phone and seeing the awaiting texts that I realized this was no dream.
I don’t cry. That’s just who I am and have ever been. That morning, laying in my bed, searching for any article with the story… I cried.
The specifics were sketchy at first. Then as the day went on the details and speculations began to trickle in. Anthony Bourdain, the Hemingway of food had gone out on his own terms.
I always use the word “hero” with caution. I realize that people are fickle and fragile animals. I know that to put someone, anyone, on pedestal of admiration is a dangerous thing. One small blunder or a hidden skeleton and you begin to question everything you admired about that person. I can truly say that Bourdain was my hero.
It’s been years since I’ve so much as logged into this blog. I’ll admit, I simply gave up on it. In thinking about Bourdain’s work and how it affected me, I began to take an inventory of the many ways he impressed change in my life. He introduced me to so many authors, artists, chefs, tastes, music and places. He taught me to redefine the way I travel and attempt to understand culture. One of the most influential things he did was make me believe that I could. That given enough hard work and consistency I could find satisfaction in anything I was passionate about. So I started a blog, this blog to be exact. I began taking the years of travel journals and notes and displaying them publicly. I was creating and within a year, I had gotten published (it was a small travel article but it counts). It had all started with a book called Kitchen Confidential by this guy named Bourdain.
I remember saying to my wife that morning that the world is now a darker place without Anthony Bourdain. In retrospect, I’m wrong. The world really isn’t any darker. The world just lost the man who would carry the torch into those sometimes dark corners. The world lost the man who would demystify scary places with scary people and their scary food. Most importantly we lost the writer and the artist.
Maybe it’s time to come back. To create again. To do what Anthony Bourdain used to say:
”Create art every motherfucking day.”
He will be dearly missed by this failed blogger.
LG
The Outer Marker 