In the summer of 1975, I was four when my dad took me to see JAWS in a crowded theater.
It was a poor parenting decision — albeit one that resulted in my becoming obsessed (& terrified) of sharks for the rest of my childhood. I read every book I could find. I told anyone who asked that when I grew up, I was going to be a marine biologist. And I remained completely terrified of the ocean.
Now, fast forward four decades.
I am not a marine biologist, nor have I kept up my childhood obsession with sharks. (My fear of the ocean, however, has remained constant.)
So you can imagine my surprise when, a year ago, as my 50th birthday approached and person after person asked me how I was going to celebrate it, I responded with an idea that had never before even occurred to me:
Cage-diving with Great White Sharks.
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