I’ve travelled on this planet for nearly thirty-six, mostly-stable trips around the sun. I fell in love for the first time when I was twenty and I don’t really think I have since. Ten years ago, I graduated college far from sober and only then did I begin what I consider education. It’s then that I started to devour books. I remember reading Kitchen Confidential in my early twenties and as I read his lyrical, debauchery filled writing, I felt right at home. The wandering soul found his place among the forgotten. It was that and many other books that gave me a home in a world to which I still feel foreign on many-a-night. Today marks three years since Anthony Bourdain took his own life. That shit still bums me out. I mean, why? But it’s over now and here we are..
People have told me they are reminded of him with my writing, and I’m honored. I hope my average man’s search for meaning hits home with some people like he did. Because it’s one of the nicest compliments I have received. If I can make people feel the way he made travel seem important and approachable, I’m doing something right. I started this blog just about a year and two months ago. It changed everything for me. The wonderful people I have met and the fears and triumphs they have told. My view on life has completely changed.
I published my first novel just over two months ago. I hope you pick up copies for everyone in your life and they do the same for the people in theirs and I’d love for the masses to read it and understand it is to be a service worker. May they build empathy for their fellow humans. In my heart of hearts, I desire it to help someone realize that life is what you make it, pandemic or not. Oh, and don’t be an asshole to random people. It’s not worth the energy. I poured a gin and Topo Chico with lime about a minute before I started writing this piece. That was worth the energy. Worrying about those years, months, days, hours, minutes and seconds is not. Don’t let the sadness get you. Be good to yourself and have a great week.