Wednesday, September 06, 2006
A Kindred Soul
When someone dies, most of the world doesnt give much of a hoot.
If lets say, President Bush checked on out, there would be weeks of mourning, but to everyone but the closest of family, Bush would just be a president, a leader figure, the most powerful man in the world, someone people would miss (maybe not all. heh.), but not cry over.
But then there are people like Steve Irwin.
Someone who did not fear the world and its rat races, who did not yield to pressure, who loved God's creations (or Mother Nature's whatever you believe) with all his heart, soul and mind. Someone whose feet was always firmly planted on solid rock, firm in his ways and lifestyle, his safari clothes making him an icon, despite having no place in the pages of Vogue or the boutiques of Paris.
Childhood passes fast, and soon we are aspiring towards the dream job, most likely the chairman of some huge company or some international superstar. But Irwin, he took his lifelong passion, turned it into his occupation, and instead of keeping it behind the confines of a reptile farm, took it to the world, made a living out of it, instead of keeping it as a side hobby.
Everyone remembers their childhood years, growing up learning about dangerous animals like tigers and lions and snakes.. and in the same breath, crocodiles are mentioned. Pictures of their sharp teeth and montrously large mouths scare us all. And suddenly, here came this hero in brown, who climbed onto their back as if they were kiddy ponies, taming the very objects of our childish fears, entertained us all with his charisma, even in the very face of death.
Even after those kids grew up into aspiring teenagers, Steve still left an impression, dearly loved by everyone, even if they sometimes made fun of his undying love for animals.. many a time he held up a poisonous, vicious reptile right in the camera's lens, cooing about 'what a beauty she was', as if Poisonous Deadly Reptile were a stuffed plushie from Mini Toons. His antics made him an instant superstar, even if most of the adult world forgot about him.
To a world so caught up in the standards of society and its material fashions, Steve proved that you could be cool just doing that thing you do best; few hated him, and even in his material wealth after the success of his show, his first love never waived, and the same reptiles that accompanied him when he was poor were his same companions in his riches. He found in his wife a soulmate who shared his love, supported this wonderful man, bore him children that would hopefully one day carry on the legacy of their father.
Steve showed the world that their fears are mere illusions, waiting to be overcome by the right solution. People like him don't deserve to die, and his death only serves as yet another (probably unheeded) wakeup call to how nothing in this world lasts, how our heroes are as mortal as us, about how easy it is to waste your life away doing something you totally feel no passion for.
Millions of tears fall for you, Steve, and some are mine. Hope to see you one day...
jOhn thought at 3:35 AM
