I enjoyed Anthony Bourdain’s travel and food shows when I could catch them but will find time to watch more now that he has passed. Dry wit, curiosity no non-sense bullshit and enjoyed life by meeting people over good food in great places around the world. Inspiring.

Also inspiring was some of his attitudes:

“If I’m an advocate for anything, it’s to move. As far as you can, as
much as you can. Across the ocean, or simply across the river. The
extent to which you can walk in someone else’s shoes or at least eat
their food, it’s a plus for everybody. Open your mind, get up off the
couch, move.”

“I’m a big believer in momentum. As an ex-abuser of drugs, I’m not a
person who should have any pleasurable interruptions. Inactivity, time
for reflection–these are not good for me. I work a lot, do a lot of
different things, but I think in some ways I’m overcompensating for the
inner, hidden knowledge that somewhere deep inside me there’s a lazy
hippie waiting to get out, that if I’m given the opportunity, I’d lay
down on the couch, turn on Adventure Time or The Simpsons, smoke a joint, and lay there for the next six months. If I go to work, I’m going to do things. I keep at them.”

“Create an esprit de corp, and a feeling that you are an elite,
that even if you have the shittiest jobs within a large organization,
you should feel proud of the fact that you’re part of something.
Recognize excellence. Celebrate weirdness, and innovation. Oddballs
should be cherished, if they can do something other people can’t do.”

“Who, after all, wants a ‘sensible’ relationship? Might it follow then
that we shouldn’t aspire to live always by sensible choices? That what
is good for us in the short term is not always the ‘best’ way? To live
always by what’s right now in front of our faces and the imperatives of
keeping things running smoothly for me and mine, good business, no
problems — that’s the kind of shopkeeper mentality that got the world
into a whole lot of shit back in the day. So, maybe, just maybe, fuck
sensible.”

“A few years back, I got the words, ‘I am certain of nothing’ tattooed
on my arm. It’s what makes travel what it is, an endless learning curve,
the joy of being wrong, of being confused.”

“The absolute certainty that no one was ever going to care about or buy or read Kitchen Confidential was
what allowed me to write it. I didn’t have to think about what people
expected. I didn’t care. As a result, I was able to write this book
quickly and without tormenting myself.”