The Archive

Obit of bad news

Evel Knievel is dead.

For those of us who experienced childhood in the seventies, this is tragic news. Evel Knievel was the seventies.

He had the glamour, the sideburns, the enormous collars and the hint of danger that made the Evel Knievel stunt rider the ultimate must-have toy of my childhood.

I never got one, I should add, which may explain much of my mental scarring today. But it wasn't Evel's fault, nor my parents, who made up much ground with the gift of a light saber, but that's a story for another time.

The point is, Evel was a man who stared death in the face, poked him in the eye and, realising it was just an empty socket, kicked him in the shins for good measure.

And now death has got him. That's the thing about death, he plays the waiting game and never loses. I guess the trick is to squeeze in as much life as you can in the interval.

I think what was great about Evel was that when he said he was going to jump 48 buses or 3287 anaethsetised penguins or whatever it was, you wanted to see it because not only did you think he might make it, you also knew there was a very good chance he wouldn't - and end up in the hospital for good measure.

When was the last time you saw something like that?

Did you ever doubt that Blaine would get out of his box alive? Have you ever really been afraid for the celebrities who want to be got out of there? Was television ever less 'real' despite the ubiquity of 'reality' shows?

And Knievel was his real name too. Not the Evel bit mind you, but still.

Goodbye Mr Knievel.

It almost makes me want to buy one of these...

posted by Peter The Great @ 4:31 PM