I wanted to try and write a sentimental tribute to one of my favorite TV personalities, but nothing sentimental or fitting came to mind. Late last night, as I read CNN, I saw the most shocking news: Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin is Killed. I admit, I love watching shows about animals - National Geographic or Discovery Channel - whatever. But I especially loved Irwin because nobody was crazier than this guy. Watching him and his wife constantly educate and lecture about the most dangerous wildlife was only fascinating because Steve and Terri Irwin took their passion to extreme. I mean really... who the hell swims with crocodiles, picks up the most venomous snakes in the world, and plays with sharks? This crazy Australian guy. He consistently tempted death with his stunts to show us that nature and wildlife were both beautiful and dangerous. I saw an episode where he was bit by a snake and I thought this man has a death wish. He created controversy when he held his infant while feeding a 12 foot croc in the Queensland Zoo. Jack Hannah said that 99% of the time that there is an accident involving a wild animal, its the person's fault. I agree with him and yet I mourn Steve Irwin. No one ever thought it would be a stingray that killed him - yet it was fitting that it was during a documentary and during one of his forays into educating people about nature that he died. A stingray barb to the heart, those jagged poisonous barbs stuck him like a knife to the chest, and he died. Poor Terri. Poor baby. But everybody knew the risk. Every time Steve dove into the water, he always knew he might not come up. He often swam freely, without equipment, just his little mask and tube. I'll miss watching him wrestle crocodiles and impress me with his passionate knowledge about fearsome reptiles. Nobody could get you as excited about reptiles as the Crocodile Hunter. And so, although we will be sad about his death, at least he died doing what he loved.