Jill's Journal: ‘Jaws’, revisited 50 years later
As I planted myself in my recliner Friday night, I did what I often do: I scrolled through the on-screen TV guide to see what – if anything – piqued my interest.
Lo and behold, Jaws was just about to start. As marketed, this year is the 50th anniversary of the movie that literally kept swimmers out of the water and on the beach across the United States.
Fifty years.
That made me swallow hard, because, I, like many of you, was alive to see the movie on the big screen that left many leery the next time they waded into a lake, a river or the ocean.
I well remember going to see the movie. My brother was a newly-licensed driver and eager to get behind the wheel for any reason, even if meant carting his younger sister and her friend Rita to a movie theatre just over 30 miles away.
Somewhere along the way, there was a young man on the side of the road hoping to catch a ride. Yep, he was a hitchhiker, and my brother – without hesitance – slowed down the car and invited him to catch a ride with us as far as Fairmont. With a Bible in hand, he climbed into the backseat and away we went.
Honestly, after 50 years, I don’t remember the conversation that took place in that short moment in time, but thankfully, he wasn’t crazy or looking for an opportunity to make us a Dateline story.
I can’t say the movie made me fearful of putting a toe in the lake, and as for the ocean, well, it would be years down the road before I ever stepped onto a white sandy beach with a big ol’ ocean before me. And by that time, any fear I may have had, was long forgotten. I do recall a bit of hesitancy jumping into the chilly and dark waters of Sylvan Lake, but that seemed more like a place the Loch Ness Monster would take up residency in.
What I do remember about the movie is the music that leads up to the shark “attacks”, you know, the all-too-familiar, “Dah-dah, dah-dah, dah-dah.” (I bet your saying it to yourself right now.)
While I’ve been blessed to swim in oceans and seas in various parts of this big blue marble we call Earth, I’ve fortunately never encountered a shark. In fact, the only shark I’ve ever encountered is the one in my closet. It’s a vacuum that goes by the “Shark” brand, and the next time I’m plugging it into action, I might just put a bit of fear into whatever lies within the carpet: “Dah-dah, dah-dah, dah-dah.”
