Monday, June 11, 2018

RIP Anthony Bourdain

I had a dream the other night. I was running a marathon in a blizzard and Third Eye Blind's "Narcolepsy" was playing in my ears. I came to a bridge high up above a raging river where I saw another runner standing on the ledge. He jumped off just as the lyrics "How'd you like to be alone and drowning" came on. I went in after him but couldn't find him. I woke up gasping for air and shivering.

I think the dream was brought on by news of the suicide of Anthony Bourdain.
He was one of my favorite chefs (yes, I have favorite chefs, geez.). He taught us to be adventurous, to embrace unknown cultures and to love food for its nourishment, it's flavor and its sense of community. He seemed so full of life, but, alas, many of us wear a mask to hide our pain. And while that is sinking in, consider this: He had an 11 year-old-daughter. I feel that one's pain would have to be incredible in order to override your parental instincts and take your own life in that situation. But, then, I think of what David Foster Wallace, famed author and essayist wrote about the subject:

"The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling."

David Foster Wallace suffered from mental illness with some extreme swings and killed himself in 2008, thus adding considerable weight to that quote.

But, now, back to Anthony Bourdain. Via his television show, Parts Unknown, Bourdain brought home to us the extraordinary diversity of cultures and cuisines. He was a gifted writer and chef with a larger than life personality. And I know that I'm usually much more jaded about celebrity deaths, but this one hit me hard. I feel like I've lost a friend. So, in honor of Anthony Bourdain, I'd like to share my favorite scene. Here he is at Waffle House, of all places. Watch as he truly appreciates the place for what it is and for what it does.

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