Halfway through listening to "In A Sunburned Country." Just got my copy of Anthony Bourdain's "Medium Raw" today from Amazon, have read the first couple of chapters. I wish I could be as unapologetic as he is. I dunno why, but I am such a fan of his writing, though sometimes the swearing does seem a bit superfluous. However, his recollections of things are painfully funny...
"So, it's the party following the Julie & Julia premiere, and I'm standing there by the end of the buffet, sipping a martini with Ottavia, the woman I'd married in 2007, and two friends, when I feel somebody touching me. There's a hand under my jacket and running up my back and I instantly assume this must be somebody I know really well to touch me in this way--particularly in front of my wife. Ottavia has had a couple years of mixed martial arts training by now, and the last time a female fan was demonstrative in such a way, she leaned over, grabbed her wrist, and said something along the lines of "If you don't take your hands off my husband, I'm going to smash your fucking face in." (In fact, I remember that those were her words exactly. Also, that this was not an idle threat.)
In that peculiar slow motion one experiences in car wrecks, in the brief second or so it took for me to turn, I recall that particularly frightening detail: my wife's expression, significant in that it was frozen into a rictus of a grin, paralyzed with a look I'd never seen before. What could be standing behind me that would put this unusual expression on my wife's face--make her freeze like that--a deer in the headlights?
I turned to find myself staring into the face of Sandra Lee.
Ordinarily by now, a woman's hand up my back, Ottavia would have been across the table with a flying tomohawk chap to the top of the skull--or a vicious elbow to the thorax--followed immediately by a left-right combination and a side kick to the jaw as her victim was on its way to the floor. But no. Such are the strange and terrible powers of television's Queen of Semi-Homemade that we, both of us, stood there like hypnotized chickens. The fact that Sandra was standing next to New York's attorney general--and likely next governor--Andrew Cuomo (her boyfriend), added, I thought, an implied menace.
'You've been a bad boy,' Sandra was saying, perhaps referring to casual comments I may or may not have made, in which I may have suggested that she was the 'hellspawn of Betty Crocker and Charles Manson.' The words 'pure evil' might have come up as well. It is alleged that the words 'war crimes' might also have been used by me--in reference to some of Sandra's more notorious offerings, like her 'Kwanzaa Cake.' Right now, I have no contemporaneous recollection of those comments."