In our time of great division, Anthony Bourdain brought us closer to one other. He grabbed every corner of the world and pulled them together in a shared experience that spoke to our deepest, most ancient desire for communal joy and boundless adventure.

Through his wild passion for all things edible, he proved that no difference is too great when sharing a meal with your fellow human being. Gaza, Congo, Libya, Detroit, Marseille, Myanmar, his palette stayed fearless and his mind wide open with a desire for culture that burned white-hot, inspiring millions to look deeper into the human spirit.

“Parts Unknown”, Bourdain’s magnum opus, is now legend, earning a place in history as one of the most important moments in American media. Through nine delicious television seasons, he dove into the world as he would a plate of food, using his tastebuds to shed light on life’s deeper meaning. His seemingly endless curiosity would often highlight the ridiculousness of extreme wealth while his most cherished moments flourished in the dens of poverty, exposing the beautiful underbelly of society and the powerful systems that oppress it. Art, music, poetry and cooking were all the same to him, merely different ways to express and experience the transient multitude of human emotions we all share.

Of his many accomplishments, few are more virtuous than his fearless support of women and, in particular, the #MeToo movement. Here, as with all things Bourdain, he pulled zero punches, using his stature of prominence in a male-dominated industry to uplift his fellow female, giving women the credit they deserve while lambasting men who, for centuries, have kept them down. It was something he would echo across racial disparity and economic injustice, resolute in his ethos of human equality and relentless in his pursuit of simply being a better human.

There’s no telling how much more he could have given us, but his punk-rock passion, pragmatic empathy, and boundless curiosity have been beautifully captured, edited and woven together in stories we’ll be telling our Grandchildren. Let us gather ‘round the fire and say Bon Voyage Bourdain, Bon Appetit Tony. The whole world raises it’s glass to you.

❤️

Throughout my entire childhood, and well into my adult life, Donald Trump has always been there, a lurking reminder of excess and opulence woven into the fabric of American pop culture like a gaudy straight-jacket I could never take off. From his wealth-inflating cameos in Hollywood blockbuster films to appearances on America’s first money-worshiping reality show “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous”, he literally made my 10-year-old frame recoil in full, pre-pubescent self awareness. He was everything I understood as my polar opposite; an egomaniacal, greedy, glutinous, self serving, arrogant, braggadocios, misogynistic, hedonistic, prejudiced, spiteful bully. He was the living embodiment of the 7 deadly sins and, in every way, the type of person my family raised me not to be.

“Simply put, he was (and still is) a pathological liar and an incurable narcissist.”

Throughout the decades I was forced to watch as he remained unwavering and utterly detestable in his constant flaunting of wealth, parade of sexual prowess, total disrespect for women, “unwittingly” racist comments, gross fabrication of character and complete contempt for anything opposed to his myopic, golden-spoon frame of reference. At no time did he exhibit anything close to a political platform other than to temporarily exalt those in power who furthered his business interests, including his friends Bill and Hillary Clinton during their reign, something which he now claims made America un-great, with which he was fully complicit. Paradoxical? No. Hypocritical? Absolutely. This glob of slime was formed in the same swamp he would later claim to drain. Simply put, he was (and still is) a pathological liar and an incurable narcissist. I’ve known this since age 10, which means every self-respecting adult should, too.

“…long before his horrific ascension to the highest office in our nation, we knew Donald Trump was despicable…”

By the aughts, I was in my early 20’s and, having endured more than a decade of Trumpian narcissism, I reluctantly found myself in Atlantic city for a trade show. By then, Trump had already sucked the city dry. His total mismanagement of Trump Hotels and Casino Resorts had cost the company millions, while Donald himself continued receiving huge bonuses. His largest and most expensive property, The Trump Taj Majal, had declared bankruptcy 10 years earlier, decimating local businesses who were owed millions in the construction of Trump properties, money he would never pay.

As we drove into town, an unholy behemoth of horrid, gaudy architecture engulfed our windshield, defiling our vision. It was the Trump Taj Mahal, which Donald alone dubbed the “Eighth Wonder of the World”. To us, it was more the “Seventh Gate to Hell”, a billion dollar pit of both monetary and moral bankruptcy, still sucking along a decade later. As we pulled closer, I noticed what seemed to be dozens of Seagulls circling high above the tallest tower. They were agitated, aggressive and organized, squawking angry slogans like flying protesters on a job strike. “What the fuck is that?” I said, turning to my cohorts who were already squinting at the winged demonstration in disbelief. “Holy shit!” my friend waxed poetic, “There’s hundreds!” His exaggeration was well founded. There were so many, at times they blotted out huge chunks of sky. We had never seen so many seagulls in such a calculated, acrimonious formation. “Wait, is that shit? Are they shitting?” another friend extolled from the back seat. Indeed, the flock had reached peak numbers, allowing for a display that, to us, rivaled even the greatest 4th-of-July finale. The sky was filled with soft-serve and outrage as hundreds of Seagulls, circling in expert formation, screamed in orchestral chaos while ferociously shitting on Trump’s eighth wonder.

To a car full of young, self-aware adults who had grown up with America’s #1 asshole flaunting his plundered wealth at every turn, it was a brief moment of sweet revenge. Later, we cried laughing at our postulation that the feculent fowl were the reincarnated souls of every person Trump had screwed over in his life. You see, even at the fledgeling age of 20, long before his horrific ascension to the highest office in our nation, we knew Donald Trump was despicable, which means every self-respecting adult have should, too.

“Trumpism, where power and greed were tenets to live by.”

By the time I was 30, Donnie had declared 6 bankruptcies, sold his “Eighth Wonder” for pennies on the dollar, demolished the Atlantic City economy, defrauded thousands of Trump University students, deflected dozens of lawsuits and been accused of sexual assault by several women. But, despite all odds, he was about to make a legendary “comeback”, not by building businesses or investing in properties, no. Like a Phoenix from the ashes, he would rise to new success by publicly firing people on television. The Apprentice would set a new low bar while reaching record high ratings and Trump would spend 14 television seasons solidifying everything I had come to know as Trumpism, where power and greed were tenets to live by. The very premise of this show made my adult frame cringe in disbelief. As long as I could remember, I’d been subjected to this phony peacock conning his way into my life, and just when I thought he’d finally lost, he strutted back into the spotlight posing as a business genius. “What a joke”, I thought, and every self-respecting adult should have, too.

“Any decent human being with a shred of morality could see that Donald Trump represented the absolute worst of humanity.”

So, for the millions of adults just like me, who grew up with 40 years of the world’s worst “winner” perpetually shoving his way into our lives, how did half of the voting populace rationalize Donald Trump’s lifelong shit-show flinging itself toward the Presidency? Any decent human being with a shred of morality could see that Trump represented the absolute worst of humanity. Is the collective veil of amnesia so widespread that half of America simply forgot he squatted on them like a toilet made of gold their whole lives? That’s how I felt for over 30 years, and I’m by no means alone here. It only takes a single flight in any direction from the epicenter of Trump-land to find entire cultures, billions and billions of human beings who utterly despise him, not only as the worst President in American history, but as the worst example of modern society, period.

“He behaves in ways we would punish our children for, and still his supporters cheer him on,”

Unfortunately for us “losers”, Donny’s throne grab has only inflated his despicable ego. The wincingly braggadocious playboy has become an intolerable monster. Like a Hum-V limousine from the bubble-bursting 2000’s, he is a monumentally destructive waste of space, driving division through our country, crushing our dreams of social progress and choking us with the exhaust of his ego-boosting lies. He behaves in ways we would punish our children for, and still his supporters cheer him on. Their sociopolitical hypocrisy is so prodigious it mirrors some of the darkest moments in world history.

Still, the young boy inside me holds faith that we’re better than this, that Trump’s supporters will finally wake from their amnesia, and that his reign of power will come crashing down around him like an 80’s film where the rich douchebag gets cake-faced and loses the girl in front of the whole school. Oh, how the world will rejoice, because there’s nothing more satisfying than knowing the bully lost.

If such sweet justice were ever dispensed, let it be now, for this horrible, self-serving man-child, devoid of human connection, bereft of moral compass and blinded by his own ego now holds the keys to our very destruction. With his lifelong dick-measuring contest now forced upon the global stage, the world hangs in peril as we take part in our own reality television show, where the star is a dangerously unqualified charlatan posing as a President who cares infinitely more about ratings than people…and those people are US.

In parting, take solace in this, my friends: at it’s peak, “The Apprentice” had higher ratings than Trump’s current reality ruse, and even that got canceled. So, although the future is uncertain, Trump’s fall from grace is inevitable. We can only hope he doesn’t take America down with him. God help us. #RESIST

*For more grandiloquent anecdotes and impassioned diatribes, find me here: Twitter / Facebook.

I Grew Up With Donald Trump was originally published in Extra Newsfeed on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.