The Crocodile Hunter is gone.
I have to admit that I was never a big fan of Steve Irwin’s TV series, unlike Pépé, who had a little fetish for all the nasty animals that were featured. When I did watch the show, I tended to get irritated by his overly enthusiastic embrace of all creatures with big sharp teeth and poisonous fangs. Every now and then, I even harboured a slight hope that those big sharp teeth would nip him in the butt.
We have lost a remarkable Australian personality and ambassador, even though some might think that he did nothing for the great Aussie stereotype. Sure a good part of the world now thinks that all Australians are blond, wear khakis on a daily basis and litter our conversations with exclamations of Crikey every few seconds, but does it really matter? I find that in my case, half the fun is seeing how foreigners react when they try to comprehend that my round Asian face is Australian.
In a world where so many people are going through life sans-passion and on autopilot (myself included), you have to admire him for living passionately and doing what he loved right to the end.