Crikey

Yesterday was a sad day around our house. I was online early and read the news that crocodile hunter Steve Irwin had died from a stingray's barb. It was too early for me to wake Kathy and tell her, so I read the details of the story (some of the early information was incorrect, as it turns out.)

Last year Kathy and I were discussing what made Irwin so appealing. We decided that it was his enthusiasm for what he was doing -- educating people about animals and preaching conservation. I've never been that enthusiastic about anything.

Kathy was sort of in shock all day. We have been fans of Irwin's for years, and learned a lot. In addition to the wildlife knowledge we gained, we also knew why he named his daughter Bindi (after a crocodile) and celebrated the birth of his son Bob. We laughed at his occasional misadventures, and we even watched the horrible movie he made, The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course.

There are not enough genuine, caring, sincere, enthusiastic people in the world. Losing one like Steve Irwin hurts. Our family extends condolences to his wife Terri, Bindi and Bob. We share their sorrow.

Cheers, mate.