In baseball, a pitcher keeps a hitter off balance by throwing him a curveball every now and then. Unfortunately, so does life. Why? Is it to keep us focused? I was saddened to hear the news of the death of the "Croc Hunter", Steve Irwin. What a curveball, huh? The guy is 24/7 with crocs and cobras, etc., and then in an instant a very rare fatal blow from a stingray kills him. It makes no sense. He leaves behind two kids, a wife he seemed close to (afterall, they wrestled crocs together), and a passion that freakishly took his life. Does it make his death any easier to accept because he died doing what he loved (sort of, I mean, a stingray killing you is very very rare)? What if life's passions take our life in the process? Is that okay because we were living our life to its fullest? Derek Jeter takes a fastball to the head and dies, Bruce Springsteen is zapped to death while playing his guitar. Is that acceptable? Curveball, curveball, curveball. John Lennon said it best, "life is what happens while we're busy making plans." R.I.P. Steve Irwin. It seems you lived life your way, and in the end, can we really ask for more? Take care. Later, Butch