Crikey!

Liz eulogizes:

Like a real-life McGyver that has found that duct tape can't get you out of everything, the khaki-clad crocodile hunter is dead. Now really, does this seem fair? Yes, he had a mullet after mullets were out of fashion, and yes, he once pulled a Michael Jacksonesque move by holding his baby boy over a feeding crocodile, but certainly there is no one out there who would say that this was deserved.

I didn't say unexpected, I said deserved.

I loved Steve Irwin- he was enthusiastic, he was kind, he was boyishly adventurous. All in all, a pretty good bloke. I'm not sure what lesson we are suspposed to learn from his demise. Don't poke animals with sticks? Respect nature's authority? Passion for your job will get you killed?

If given the choice, would you elect to live to 74, having worked 30 years under fluorescent lights in a cubicle or would you choose to live to only 44, having lived passionately and on your own terms? That's why I respected him. It's not often that you have the opportunity to see people who are doing exactly what they want to be doing with their lives; people who know the risks, yet push forward in hopes of accomplishing something more significant than themselves. A contribution to the greater good, maybe?

Fortunately, I do not have to make that choice. I'm not really all that passionate about anything, so I expect to make it to at least 60... 70 if I can kick my bad habits.

I'm going to miss the Hunter and his enthusiasm for the ugliest creatures and the foulest reptiles in our World. Today I remember him with words. Tomorrow I will remember him with khaki. Yes, I will be wearing khaki tomorrow. Oh, it's part of the company's dress code, but you and I know that it will really be in memoriam of Steve. So tomorrow, for the first time since the dress code was implemented, I will wear my khaki with passion.

Steve would be proud.