Given a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero. While my friend Tyler has said this on several occasions, it never really sank in until today. Today, when I found out that Macho Man Randy Savage had died.
He was possibly the greatest professional wrestler who ever lived. Andre the Giant was a greater physical spectacle; the Ultimate Warrior was better at working a crowd; Hulk Hogan was better known to the world at large. But for the total package, you really can't beat the Macho Man.
Growing up I think I liked him more than I knew. This could be because he resembles my uncle who was another hero when I was very young*, though maybe not. Whatever the case, I wanted to be a pro wrestler so I could form a tag team with him. Don't blame me - I was young. I didn't even care whether he was a "good guy" or a "bad guy": I was ready to redefine these terms because Randy Savage was THE good guy.
Whether delivering an elbow from the top rope, interrupting Mean Gene during an interview, or snapping into a Slim Jim, the world will miss the Macho Man Randy Savage. Oooh yeah!
*Sadly, both my uncle and Savage died in their fifties as a result of heart attacks. I guess three of my earliest heroes died of heart attacks. Yikes.
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