It’s always a strange feeling when a public persona or celebrity passes away….perhaps because we grow up viewing these people as larger than life. Untouchable in a way.
There have been a few celebrity deaths that have saddened me in the past few years, as if parts of my childhood departed with them….but none have shaken me as much as the passing of Anthony Bourdain. I’m writing this the day after he was found dead, and yet still half of me won’t…can’t accept that it is true.
During my years working in the fashion/film industry I was afforded the ability to work and associate with several A-listers, but Bourdain was not one of them. I remember countless times I’d attend a nice dinner at a well-known restaurant or a party at the club du jour of whatever city I was in and hope to catch a sighting….but our paths never crossed. He will always remain the one public persona I would have wanted to meet and chew the fat with…pun most definitely intended.
I became a fan of Anthony’s when I was in my early 20’s and happened to turn on the TV in the middle of an episode of No Reservations. I was hooked. Instantly. Travel, food, and the human condition have always been passions of mine, and here was a man who had somehow mixed the three with an air of soulful perfection. As if mixing three exotic ingredients into the perfect dish. But only he could do that, really, right?
His irreverent genius was impossible to ignore and I binged on that show falling in complete admiration with him as a human. His books had me devouring each word as if I were being served some gastronomical delight. I didn’t want to be “with” him. I wanted to be him. So many of us did.
Every series he put on, every book he wrote I made sure to make myself privy to….and none of it ever disappointed. Of all the cooking and travel shows on TV, his were something different. It was obvious that he cared about the countries and people that he visited. This wasn’t an opportunity for self-glorification. It was his way of inspiring, and of opening doors into worlds very few of us will or would ever enter.
You were more likely to find him sitting on the floor of an impoverished hovel eating a home cooked meal in some remote village, than preening at a linen and sterling silver covered table of some pretentious Michelin starred restaurant. Surely, his appreciation for both forms of dining co-existed, but that’s not the point. The point is that he appreciated culture and culinary wisdom without discrimination….without boundaries.
Anthony was the one person everyone I know loved. Male or female, we all wanted to be him…or like him….or at least get the chance to have a meal with him and see what made his mind tick. He inspired all of us to have mad intellectual crushes on him. He was a roguish superhero of sorts….never afraid to speak his mind, never selling out, never giving a damn about who he might offend.
He was raw. He was real. He was everything our society now doesn’t seem to be able to be….UNFILTERED.
And now he is gone.
So many theories are circulating now as to why his life ended so abruptly. Is it because of how his girlfriend spoke out against Weinstein and the Hollywood establishment? Is it because he spoke out and knew too much about the Clintons? Or did he simply have a tortured soul that none of us could’ve imagined existed behind such charismatic brilliance? Did he wrestle with demons that he no longer could keep at bay?
I guess we will never truly know. Either way, he is terribly missed. Gone far too soon. We had so much left to learn from him. And yet maybe this was his final lesson for us?
I read a tweet soon after I found out he had passed that asked for us to make sure to reach out to our “strongest friends” and to not expect people who need help to do the reaching out. This struck several chords.
People who suffer from depression often are not able to ask for help. Some are ashamed, some have sunk too low, some simply don’t want to burden anyone. In equal parts, so many of our “strong” friends are the ones suffering the most while they smile their way through their pain and tribulations….trying hard to make sure everyone else is happy and well while in absolute internal agony.
This is perhaps why when someone like Anthony takes their own life, we are all left shocked….everything seemed fine with them.
SEEMED fine.
Depression is quiet and baffling. I’ve seen this firsthand. As I have also seen firsthand how some people throw the word “depression” and “suicide” around to get negative attention, or to manipulate and get their way….in some ways discrediting the validity of a condition that is far too real. Behavior that exists, but sadly should not.
Threats of suicide and depression should never be used to cry wolf…..never. Those who truly suffer from depression, who think that their loved ones would be better off without them, who live with the guilt of knowing they shouldn’t feel so low but still do…rarely, if ever, tell anyone they feel this way. They don’t want to upset the balance of anyone else’s lives. They don’t want to give a physical voice to their pain….until it’s too late.
Depression needs to stop being so misunderstood, so misdiagnosed, and so swept under the rug by society. How many more lives need to be extinguished before something proactive is done? Before we truly make the effort to understand it and find the root cause rather than masking it? Hopefully not many more.
I hope Anthony has found his peace on this ultimate of trips….Parts Unknown, truly.
header photo by Markus Spike @Pexels
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