Rest In Peace

Steve Irwin, a.k.a. "The Crocodile Hunter" was killed in Australia on Monday while filming a new show called The Oceans Deadliest. He got too close to a stingray; more specifically, he got too close to the stingray's tail, which has a sharp, poisonous barb at it's tip. The barb punctured his chest and stabbed his heart. CPR was attempted, but by the time his crew was able to get him to a hospital, he was already dead.

I actually have nothing funny, clever or snarky to say about this man's death. I'm not immune to the dark humor that comes from a celebrity's untimely demise (you hear me Kevin Federline; I'm waiting...) but Steve Irwin, who always seemed like a good, passionate guy, doesn't really deserve that. The worst that you can say about him is that got a bit over-enthusiastic when it came to his presenting skills, but... that was just how he was. Besides, that's what everyone liked about him anyway.

Personally, though I wasn't ever really a regular viewer, I do consider myself to be a fan. There was a good stretch of my collegiate life where his show seemed to always be on right as I was waking up, or right whenI was getting home from the late shift at the video store. Watching him fool around with scorpions or taunt alligators always seemed to quell my hangover, and for that, I salute him. And I guess the old cliche, "He died doing what he loved" applies here. It would have been a cruel, unjust world that let Steve Irwin die from a stroke, say, or from an ill-prepared piece of chicken. No, he was, I think, supposed to go out among the animals and that's exactly what happened. So that's, in a circle of life kind of way, at least fitting.

Suppose that's it. Not that the comments of a lone blogger amount to much, but my best and thoughts go out to his family and friends. He will certainty not be forgotten.