It's always startling to discover which celebrity deaths affect me. Ronald Reagan? "He was so old, man." River Phoenix? Meh. But Steve Irwin, the crocodile hunter? My heart aches.
But why? I never watched anything the guy ever did. I always thought he was kind of goofy. But somewhere deep inside, I admired Irwin's spirit, his enthusiasm, his vocation. He was a man living his dream.
And so when I read the news of Irwin's death last night, I went to bed in a funk. I dreamt of wild animals. I woke still sad.
.
On this day at foldedspace.org
2002 — adhesive capsulitis In which my shoulder pain is diagnosed as adhesive capsulitis.
In memory, you should have a link to 'Rock Lobster' by The B-52s.
Did anyone think this guy would die any other way? I am sorry he died because I know he has a couple of young kids, but can you imagine a person with his job living to be 60? I read these trashy vampire books and one line is “There are good vampire hunters and dead ones.” I think you can say the same for crocodile hunters.