It's rainy and cool outside and I'm listening to Teenage Fanclub's cover of Mr. Tamborine Man and I have to admit that I am sad about Steve Irwin's passing. I know everyone seems to be commenting on this stuff, but I really loved that guy's show. It had that "God, I totally remember flipping through channels and seeing 'Crocodile Hunter' for the first time" quality.
If I was stuck in the cable version of a desert island and could only choose one channel, I would pick Animal Planet. Sundays, weak with hangover and soft regret and greasy breakfast, the choices usually are those awful VH1 list shows, a vast array of home/self improvement ick-fests, or a marathon of Crocodile Hunter and Jeff Corwin. The choice is easy. I could not count the Sundays I have wasted sunk deep on the sofa, burning calories only by my shocked exclamations everytime Steve-O would stick his hand in a rattlesnake nest or jump headfirst into a nighttime blackwater street of crocodiles.
I wish Crocodile Hunter had been on when I was a kid. And I hope its reruns are playing years from now if I ever do have kids.
