“If I am an advocate for anything, it’s to move. As far as you can, as much as you can. Across the ocean, or simply across the river. Walk in someone else’s shoes or at least eat their food. It’s a plus for everyone.”

Today is #BourdainDay and it only felt right to finally finish this piece and post it.

On two different occasions I started writing about Anthony Bourdain, once before his passing and once after.

From October 26, 2017:

I hope Anthony Bourdain appreciates this little story.

I’ve been a fan of Anthony Bourdain for a couple of years now. So when I was at a Goodwill looking at the books, not looking for anything in particular, his book “A Cook’s Tour” stood out to me. That night was special because I was hanging out with two of my best friends for the last time in a long time. It was less than a month before I moved to New York and days that we all had off work were rare. How I found that book has a story to it.

A month after moving to New York, I stumbled upon a farmers market and gravitated towards a table full of books. The first book I see is an Anthony Bourdain book, “Medium Raw.” That time, I was all alone, roaming the city on my own, nobody to share that excitement with besides sending a picture to my friends who I had found the first book with.

From July 20, 2018

It’s a strange feeling, I idolize him so much, but when you really dive into what drives someone to never stop, it often times comes from a dark place.

He was a role model to me, which is why his suicide has been so tough for me. I had this perception in my head that he was living this perfect life, a life I coveted. So for him to commit suicided, it just makes you think.

Life is ironic, I had told myself around a year ago that I would go back to eating meat after I read something said by Anthony Bourdain that he hated vegetarians. After reading that I told myself I would eat meat once I traveled out of the country. My first trip out of the United State was going to be to Mexico with my family. I was nervous to go back to eating meat, I really didn’t miss it but I made that promise to myself so I planned on having my first bite of meat after four years, a month before I departed for Mexico. I kept pushing it back because I was nervous it would make me sick. Then one day I made plans to grab dinner with a friend after work later that week. I had decided, wherever we went that's where I would order something with meat because I just had two weeks before Mexico and I couldn’t push it back anymore. Here is the ironic part, I woke up that day I had dinner plans to the news of his suicide.

That meal was in honor of him.

“And right there, I knew that if one of us was getting off dope, and staying off dope, it was going to be me. I wasn't going to let these guys drag me down. I didn't care what it took, how long I’d known them, what we’d been through together or how close we’d been. I was going to live. I was the guy. I made it. They didn’t. I don't feel guilty about that.” (page 245, Kitchen Confidential)

*Photo Credit: Jack Manning/The New York Times/Redux*

Today:

Living in New York I dreamed of running into him on the street. I don’t know what I would have done, I get shy around famous people so I probably would not have said anything. It took me a while to be able to go back and watch his show, Parts Unknown and to even pick up his book.

To me he was a journalist, he went out and shared the stories of people from all over the world, people that nobody would ever pay attention to.

I don’t get the opportunity to travel a lot, but I’ve always lived vicariously through him. He’s been to so many places around the world, some places that I will honestly never get the chance to go to, but at least I can say I’ve seen them through him, and for that I am grateful.

For someone I never knew or met, I took his death hard. I woke up, saw the news on my phone, I couldn’t believe it was true. I was waiting for another news alert saying that he was alive, that it had all been a mistake. I went back to sleep, crying. Maybe it was just bad timing, but the days after that, I couldn’t get out of bed, I had lost my motivation for anything. That marked the beginning of a really mentally tough year for me.

He was fighting his own demons, much stronger than mine.

There is a lot more than I can say about Anthony, but I’ll leave you with this.

The first episode that aired after his death, the ending was haunting.

From Eater:

Bourdain closes the episode with a reflection on Berlin’s history of highs and lows, how the city has always rebounded from its darkest moments. Now, his comments are gut-wrenching. “Few other cities have been shaped by individual imaginations, either brilliantly creative or unspeakably evil. Start again, start again. Look back at the past; never forget it. Like an Irish playwright said, ‘You must go on, I can’t go on, I’ll go on.’”

I just hope that his last meal was a damn well good one.