I was watching Parts Unknown the other night–Bourdain being one of my favourite–if rather salty–commentators on popular culture, and, yeah, food. Imagine my surprise to find him having a very civilized meal, with what appeared to be one very restrained glass of white wine–like ladies who lunch–with Iggy Pop, whom I last saw crowd-surfing half-naked on Randall’s Island about 10 years ago at Little Steven’s Garage Rock festival. And, they were in Miami. Completely clothed. No foul language. Not even a euphemism. I got a little teared up when Iggy actually said he was happy to be “loved” and to love someone back.
As AB was, I was also a huge Pop fan back in the day. I often wondered how one weathers a lifestyle so completely dedicated to living out loud with no regrets, and with a level of curiosity in life and all its dimensions that it’s practically forensic.
The good news is that Iggy is just fine. And lucid. And still curious. In fact, as he and Anthony take a walk on a grey day on a deserted, cold Miami Beach, and remonstrate about life, success, the reward for a life well spent (or youth mis-spent), Iggy is still lyrical, and his thought resonated with me.
Curiosity. . . seems to pay some unexpected dividends. . . .
