Thanks, A. B.
Words by Kathy Curto
Image by Erik Tanner
I remember those Sunday nights: We made love in very faraway places.
Jerusalem. Punjab. Beirut.
Tehran. Lyon.
Havana.
And oh, Rome!
Rome. Rome. Rome.
Now, married thirty years.
Still finding unknown parts.
Parts Unknown.
Parts Unknown.
Parts Unknown.
Sha-la-la-la-la.
Sha-la-la-la-la-la.
How This Piece Was Born
“Thanks, A.B.” was born out of a desire to shine light on the impact a writer’s work can have on one’s intimate life. It is also a way to play with the concepts of place, fantasy, and music on the blank page. Anthony Bourdain is that writer, and his weekly television show, Parts Unknown, is the source for that exploration.
And now here’s something about the man I married: he helps me sit still (not easy to do) and savor sometimes quiet and other times not-so-quiet moments. At the same time, he honors my desire to explore and taste, freely and abundantly. Sites and flavors, near and far. I love him for this.
From 2013 until 2018, on most Sunday nights, after dinner dishes and pots were put away, and after the week’s to-do lists (generated by chaotic work schedules and life with four teenagers) were given the once-over, my husband, Peppe, and I met on the couch to watch Bourdain’s Parts Unknown. It was precisely what we needed to close out the weekend and start the week. Whether we thought of it as the former or the latter depended on the kind of weekend we’d just had or what sort of week ahead our calendars reflected. Either way, it meant time to sink into our mushy couch together to escape and dream – even if only for one hour, including commercials.
Is this the end or just the beginning? It’s a searing, yet potentially liberating question, isn’t it? Certainly, we can answer it wearing the hat of the writer, but also of the lover, the mother, the artist. It might apply to both practical and abstract parts of our processes, and the unknown can be a fierce character in that narrative.
What’s behind us? What lies ahead?
Maybe this is one reason why Parts Unknown captivated us. Every Sunday night at 9pm, we were smack in the now, but steeped in wonders, flavors, and a jagged-edge, faraway-but-at-our-fingertips kind of romance.
There is so much to love about the show. The good writing, the unafraid interview questions, the style in which the lands and people on this planet – both known and unknown to us – were filmed and, of course, the food. The glorious, glorious food.
But it is the show’s theme song, with Josh Homme and Marc Lanegan pushing out the crashy-bangy electric guitar electricity of the tune, that arouses and ignites. I wanted to honor this in “Thanks A.B.” mostly because I appreciate the contrasts in the song’s composition. Tender but unpredictable. Weathered, with some shiny-sounding parts, too.
Kind of like intimacy on some days. And nights.
“Sha-la-la-la-la.
Sha-la-la-la-la-la.”
These sha-la-las. They invite the lovers and dreamers. These sha-la-las. They holler out and whisper, too: Now’s the time, what are you waiting for? There are still so many parts unknown.
About the author: Kathy Curto teaches at Sarah Lawrence College/The Writing Institute, Montclair State University and The Writers Circle as well as several nonprofit organizations and community centers in the metropolitan area. She is the author of Not for Nothing-Glimpses into a Jersey Girlhood. Her work has been featured in The New York Times, on NPR, in the anthology Listen to Your Mother: What She Said Then, What We’re Saying Now, and in Barrelhouse, Toho Journal, The Mom Egg Review, Drift and Talking Writing, among others. Her piece, “Still Cooking Side by Side” considered a “Modern Love in miniature” by The New York Times, was included in The Best of Tiny Love Stories in August 2021. Kathy lives with her family in the Hudson Valley. Please visit: www.kathycurto.com