I don’t know if anyone reads the poet Edwin Arlington Robinson anymore, but I turned to him almost immediately after I got the news that television host Anthony Bourdain had died of an apparent suicide. It is about Richard Cory, “clean favored, and imperially slim,” who is the envy of everyone in town. So on we worked, and waited for the light,And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,Went home and put a bullet through his head. There you have it: the story of Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade as well. Anthony Bourdain, R.I.P.

Source: Washington Post June 08, 2018 14:48 UTC