He was a rock, to the end, ran straight to his own armageddon, face froze in a grin

Steve Irwin died today, a freak diving accident while he was filming a documentary. A stingray, of all things, a barb straight to the chest. I'm just oddly stunned by the news. I mean, I've been watching him since college, probably since high school, actually, and seeing him do all those crazy things he does. He seemed invincible, too big to die. And if he did go, it seems like he deserved better than a freak accident. He was only forty-four, and he had two little kids. It's just really strange and sad. I know some people thought he was annoying, but I really liked him a lot. He had such a heart for animals and conservation. I wanted to go to Australia Zoo someday and see him. But he's gone.

I don't really know what else to say, how to tie it in with my life or make any great observation about the frailty of life. I just felt bad and thought I should write it down. He just came on an Animal Planet commercial, swimming with whale sharks. He'll always be like that now, always be young, always be so enthusiastic about wildlife. That's something, I guess. Rest in Peace, Crocodile Hunter.