RIP, Paul Walker . . .
Here's a guy, 40 years old, who (and I really don't care what you think of the Fast/Furious franchise) co-starred in one of the most prolific and profitable movie franchises in the history of blockbusters (part seven is coming out in 2014 and, if Internet reports are correct, most of his scenes were shot so he will be in the movie - widely believed to be the last installment anyway) and who, frankly, brought me a lot of joy in that pursuit.
There is no reason for me to like Fast/Furious. I'm not a car guy. I don't even understand how hydraulics and nitrous oxide works. Literally. NO IDEA what the heck they are even talking about. Yet - there it is - six films that I've watched anywhere from seven times (part six) to 1,000,000 times (the first one). I even loved Tokyo Drift . . . yeah . . . I said it.
I rarely mourn pop culture figures passing and there are even some that the death of makes me roll my eyes in confusion - like the ones we glorify and revise history for (Michael Jackson (let's all agree - we had been making fun of him for 15 years before he died), Steve Jobs (horrible monster of a person), etc.). I'm a snob and a boor. Don't take these things personally or out of context.
The bottom line is that a guy that made a bunch of movies (let's clump Varsity Blues in there . . . fantastic fun in its context) that made me very happy is gone and he leaves behind people that did know and love him and fans the world over that will miss him.
Mourning is not an emotion most of the animal kingdom feels. I don't know if that is a good or bad thing but when I think of how it effects me and when/why it lands a hit in my head I wonder if maybe the dung beetle isn't way, way better off.
Thanks for all the fun, Paul Walker.