It's been a while since I've blogged - new jobs, new kids, and new houses will do that - and I've been hit by a sudden responsibility streak that screams to me that I shouldn't publish some of the stuff I write. But today a guy who I really admired ended his life, and fuck this shit. I'm blogging like its 2008. And honestly, I don't know where to begin.
I kind of want to talk about Anthony Bourdain, and what he meant, but there really isn't that much for me to say that isn't out there already. He was a celebrity, and not just any celebrity, but the guy who every other celebrity wanted to be. Think about it - he traveled the world, ate good food, and wrote about it. Hell, even Obama when he was President wanted in on that.
But if that was all there was to it, then Anthony Bourdain would just be another Guy Fieri. In my life, there are certain people who I have met who feel deeper than other people, who understand what you've been through even if you don't. A good number of them struggle with drugs and alcohol because what they see affects them so deeply they need something, anything, to make the images and horror go away. Those that survive their addictions and make it out the other side to recovery are often the best people, the kindest people, the most Christian of people. I've never met Anthony Bourdain, but I'm pretty sure that describes him. For the next few days, we're going to read story after story about his previously untold kindness, and openness, and generosity, and we're going to feel tremendous sadness because he's gone.
I think its a bit worse now when a celebrity dies than in years past because social media gives a closeness that we didn't have before. I remember reading Roger Ebert's blog in his last few years of life and feeling a connection to him - he wasn't the fat movie critic on TV, but a humane being who loved movies. Following Anthony Bourdain on Twitter created a connection that existed in my own mind. That loss will be felt for awhile now.
And I also feel a deep sadness in wondering if Anthony Bourdain felt trapped by fame, and felt that suicide was the only way out. As the head of a production crew, he must of felt tremendous responsibility to keep being "Anthony Bourdain" so that his camera crew could keep paying the bills. What a horrendous way to feel.
And by the way, to those of you who are famous, and feel trapped - when you feel that way, get out. Go to a beach, and hide out for a few years. Don't take your own life. If you go to the beach, you can always come back. But Anthony Bourdain is gone now forever, and that's awful. Not as awful as 5,000 people dying in Puerto Rico because Trump refuses to accept that Puerto Rico is part of the United States, or as awful as 5 year old children being torn away from their parents by ICE, or as awful as the fact that FLINT STILL DOES NOT HAVE CLEAN DRINKING WATER, but it is awful. And my day started out bleakly.
But there was hope. There is always hope. For me, hope comes in the form of my daughters. Today, I got to see my oldest daughter sing songs with her preschool class. And then the class after her, the preschool kids who are heading off to kindergarten sang "Three Little Birds" by Bob Marley. And in that moment, I felt hopeful. There is nothing so wrong about America and our world that can't be fixed by what is right and good about America and our world. So, to end this first blog post in way, way, too long, I thought I would give you something similar to what I witnessed this morning. The kids aren't nearly as young, but their singing is a lot better.
Take care of yourselves. Get help if you need it, and if you see someone hurting, reach out.
