Ah, Shark Week. It makes its triumphant return this week, barreling into our Twitter feeds, TVs and hearts with abandon.
Shark Week is a phenomenon I don’t understand, but I can appreciate the fact that we live in a country where an entire week of television programming can be 100% dedicated to footage of a deadly sea creature ripping off limbs and marine biologists trying to convince us that said creatures are merely misunderstood and not in need of a major attitude adjustment. (Clearly the “go big or go home” philosophy is not lost on us.)
I don’t know the history of Shark Week or how long it’s been a thing, because I’ve only had Twitter for about two years, and I never watch Discovery Channel. But I do know that it has awakened this collective love of all things shark in the hearts of the American public, which kind of makes me want to be a part of it. [I love pop culture phenomenons that can be mentioned in any setting, and almost everyone around you will get the reference (see: bed intruder song; anything Harry Potter).]
It’s okay, though. I get it. I’m a “dog person.” I like animals that do not generally threaten my existence when I find myself within a 50-foot radius of them. I’m not, however, what I am heretofore referring to as a “shark person” (which is something entirely different from a “shark-person”). Noun; One who enjoys learning fun facts about and/or interacting with sharks; see also: flirts with death.
Anyway. All that to say, I’m not against Shark Week, there’s just nothing within me that emphatically yells, “I love sharks and I want to view them in their natural habitats!” So, Shark Week Lovers, I ask you: am I missing something? Is there a redeeming quality to sharks that I am clearly overlooking? Will this weeklong shark-tacular in actuality not just increase my fear of oceans? In all sincerity, I want to know. Leave me a comment and let me know why you love Shark Week.
Happy Shark Week to all you “shark people” out there!