bierkergaard

Yesterday morning, I received a text from one of my best friends. He let me know that Anthony Bourdain had killed himself. My buddy was incredulous, I was incredulous. Both of us love travel, ethnic food, and adventure. I think it fair to say that Anthony Bourdain was an inspiration to us. We both knew that his life was one in a billion but we could all aspire to be more daring like him. To see and taste the world in all of its resplendent and jagged beauty. A lovely bowl of Vietnamese goodness.   Around this time every year, I binge on the most recent episodes of Bourdain's gastronomic and increasingly politically-angled travels. This year I will do so with tears in my eyes. If at all. Not sure I can watch it with the shadows of suicide.  In every scene, every word, every gesture.   It was not pure voyeurism. Both of us travel a lot. My buddy for business and pleasure, me just for pleasure (and occasional displeasure when things don't go my way).  Travel is a reminder t

Yesterday, I went to my best friend's Mom's funeral. She was 88 so she lived a goodly number of years. I am also good friends with his brothers and went to college with all three of them. So, altogether fitting to be there in their time of sorrow.  Being from a Band of Brothers myself, I connect with he and his siblings. I consider them almost like a family. We still suffer from the loss of those close to us even though we know that she and all of us are destined to die. As I was preparing to head to where the funeral was being held, a church about 30 minutes away, I checked the satellite weather map. It has been raining ferociously all week here in Central Pennsylvania. A lot of flooding. I wanted to dodge being on the road during one of the downpours. It appeared like if I hustled back to my home after the service, I would have time to wait out the storm from the safety of the house and then head back out later to hang out with some friends. So, water has been a theme