An Ode to Anthony Bourdain -or- How to sob into a bagel
The day the world lost Anthony Bourdain, in its oh so unromantic way, Instagram delivered the news. The feed, full of photos of him over the years, and elegies to match. Resting the phone on the bed next to me, I stared at the ceiling. What the actual f*ck.
My boyfriend, ex, had just moved to NY, I was visiting, and we were crashing in his temporary Hell’s Kitchen sublet.
Sliding into my running shoes was the only thing I could think to do that might wake me up, or calm me down, or well, figure out what was happening. Go get a bagel, far away. It was a million degrees outside, so humid, so face melting hot but this was my only choice. Move, run, think.
In a city so loud and full, I traveled alone, quietly. I ran in silence, thoughts of loss and confusion coursing through my head. Loss because, well, thats obvious. Confusion because, I got it. I knew why he was gone, and I knew why he couldn’t stay. I got it.
No Reservations changed my life. I’d always loved food TV but Bourdain, man, he was something different. He was weird and brash and honest and cool all at the same time. I was weird and brash and honest and cool, all at the same time. But I was 19 years old and I’d just started to realize what a different creature I am on this earth. Like maybe I don’t fit in exactly here.
The world needs outcasts, the world needs weirdos, the world needs the people in pain pushing through, because we know every day when we wake and open our eyes the world as a more wonderful place. That is the reward for that pain. You wake up and you feel it but you KNOW that there is more so you go find it. You walk outside, look up, and remember how big the world is, and how much is out there waiting for you.
Bourdain did just that, and lucky for us, he told his story along the way. When I watch No Reservations, I appreciate the content, the view into another world but what really stands out for me, is him. His willingness to go and try, and talk, and listen, and be only exactly who he is. It makes me feel brave, to know there is someone else on this earth who is like me.
Back in Manhattan, I’d gotten to Elizabeth Street, my head spinning. Running wasn’t providing its usual healing warmth and I felt a familiar pain building in my chest. I couldn’t get myself together enough to order between the two bagels I’d been considering, so I got both. And then I sat. I sat in the window and cried… while I ate a bagel. At the same time. Sob, bite, sip of coffee, sob, bite, sip of coffee.
The guy next to me looked concerned. I turned to him and smiled, schmear on my lips, sesame seeds on my fingers, “I uh, am, having a hard day.” He said it was okay, and that bagels make things better. Love that guy.
As it so often does in times like these, the feeling came with a force- “ You need to write, you gotta write right now. Get it out, write it down.” For lack of a pen and paper, I pulled up a note on my iPhone and scribbled, digitally.
Anthony Bourdain was the first celebrity who actually had an impact on me. Don’t give a f*ck what other people think and do your thing.
Encouraging people to get help is key but you know what else is key? REACHING OUT TO THEM. Haven’t heard from a friend in a while? Give em a call! Heard from them yesterday? Doesn’t matter, still call them! Human connection is key. Pry that box open. Grill your friends on their happiness, give them a safe and trusting place to share with you, ask them to tell you 3 good things about their day, send them a random card in the mail. Feel like being lazy and just laying on the couch? Great! Invite a friend over and be couchlocked together. We push ourselves so hard and have become such great artists in concealing our difficult days. I’ve been there, and I got really lucky.
Call me anytime! FaceTime? Great! Text? Great! Wanna come over? Great! Need to borrow Wilson for a few days? What’s mine is yours. Seriously, you can sleep in my bed if you need to. It’s hella comfy.
I can’t touch all of you all the time but goddammit I really want to. LOVE YOU FAM. FOREVER. NO MATTER WHAT.
Anytime I feel the defeat, the low, the struggle that comes with being someone different, someone with something to say, someone who sees and feel the world differently, I know that I must go on.
His death strengthened something in me — that I have to keep going, always.
No matter what. Listen to people deeply. Understand them. Accept them just as they are. Love them, just as they are. Forgive them when they can’t forgive themselves. Encourage them endlessly. See beauty in the world every day. Know the pain, acknowledge it, but even on the darkest days, know there is more.
Know that so deeply in your bones that it brings magic to your life.
