I was having coffee at my favorite place, Patisserie 46, accompanied by a few friends and sitting in my favorite spot, when my friend Virgil comes to the table.
He says, “Anthony Bourdain is dead.”
“No.” says I.
“Killed himself.” says Virgil.
And with that, a compassionate and brilliant mind sets like the summer sun. I only knew him through his show and occasional interviews and what he was willing to share. When he laughed, it was reflexive and real. He enjoyed himself. On occasion, he displayed an edge when confronted by bullshit. It seemed that he was genuinely open, first with himself and second with his journalism. His candor is desperately needed right now, it will be greatly missed.
Now the personal details will come out and some of those areas he left blank will get filled in. The world is a much richer place because of Anthony Bourdain. Now, he ceases to be a star and becomes a man who is loved and missed.
Thanks for taking me to parts unknown.
The photo is, Plane Trees at Sunset.