On Fatherhood

Anthony Bourdain was my dad. Not in a biological sense, not in an adoptive sense, not in any familial sense at all. I never met the man; he didn’t know I existed. Such a nonsensical allegation might disqualify any latter statements, and yet I stand by these words. It’s not so much that the man raised me, but that I saw so much of my actual father in him that for many years when I was growing up, hooked on the TV, I subconsciously transposed the two when one or the other wasn’t around.

1995, building a bike

My dad is an incredible man. Deeply intelligent, sarcastic, strong, compassionate, and loving to a fault. He would move the earth for his family, do anything it took to make his children happy. He wouldn’t dote on us because we were too rebellious to allow such an indulgence, but he’s always been the one putting in the hours, working in places with people he’d rather never met, to give us the best life possible. That’s why he was always traveling when I was younger, always on the job, seeing far off lands that I couldn’t begin to imagine.

When I found Mr. Bourdain and his incredible adventures, I felt as if it was some sort of glimpse at my dad’s secret life, of the places he would go when he packed up his bags and climbed into the bulky airport shuttle van once again. Granted, my dad isn’t nearly such a foodie, nor had time to cavort on the streets to seek out such wild exploits. His time was occupied by meetings with professionals in anonymous grey buildings that could have truly been located anywhere in the world. I had no idea, so I made up my own narrative. I wanted to believe that he was having just as much fun, too.



1992, my sister and I pile on

I realize all this in hindsight, as I try desperately to pull apart my intense reaction to the news of Mr. Boudain’s passing. He may not have as many fans within the vegan community, but that’s truly besides the point; it’s downright offensive that anyone could consider this anything less than a tragedy, a horrendous loss of a person with a lot of heart, and sadly, a lot of demons. It’s still hard to accept the fact that he’s gone, that he will never again shed light on a place where no other journalist would dare explore, speak to locals otherwise overlooked, try foods no average American would dream of consuming.

I cling even more tightly to my real father now, despite the physical distance that separates us. We send silly emails back and forth, commenting on ridiculous news stories or funny anecdotes from our days. Nothing big or serious; we rarely even say “I love you” outright, but it’s always implied. I feel so incredibly lucky to have this incredible human being in my life, and the loss of another is a powerful reminder of that.

1989, still new at this

If there’s one thing I ask of you, on this Father’s Day, is to really appreciate all of the fathers in your life. Past, present, honorary, or designated by birth. We need them- I need them- To teach us how to fully live, and to be better citizens of the world.

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Puppy Love

He was all wrong for me. Far too young, wild and reckless, completely naive to the ways of the world. A mischievous little devil, intent on getting his way no matter what, the rules of society at large didn’t seem to apply, nor phase him. An intimidating distance stood between us as well; at least a two-hour drive on a good day, without traffic, which is a rarity in the bay area. Had I submitted a proper online dating profile, this beastly candidate would have been screened out from day one.

The thing is, I wasn’t lurking through the tangled web of Tinder profiles for a boyfriend; I was idly browsing through the pet section of Craigslist.

Luka is the dog I didn’t know I needed until the moment he adopted me. A 4 1/2-pound bundle of unlimited energy, he bounded straight into my heart and refused to leave, sinking his sharp teeth in with a ferocious grip. Only 8 weeks old, he’s already begun to train me as much as I’m trying to train him, much to his chagrin. Tiny but mighty, he has big paws and a huge personality to grow into, with so many happy years ahead of us both. Though Luka is far from the kid I thought I would have, in all those hazy dreams of my imagined, unknowable future, he’s exactly the lifelong companion I was craving. This is it, this one is a keeper, I thought to myself, holding him for the first time as he licked my face in an excited frenzy.

My newborn baby is such a shockingly recent (and sudden) addition to the family that I don’t even have a proper portrait session to share yet, but I couldn’t waste this opportunity to share. Today just happens to be National Puppy Day, less than one week into this crazy journey, because life is often stranger than fiction. Honestly, you can’t make this stuff up.

If you’ve ever wanted to let more love into your life, start at the shelters. Please, adopt, don’t shop, and save another sweet creature with the misfortune of landing in the wrong place at the wrong time. To a certain degree, you must ignore your brain, let go of your preconceived laundry list of qualifiers, and go with your gut. When you find the right guy or gal, you’ll simply know.

Thank you Luka, for adopting me. I’m far from a perfect doggie mommy, but I promise to always love you.