I'm not afraid of too much. Well, not truly afraid.
I'm a bit afraid of clowns. I'm afraid of falling. I'm afraid of spiders (although that seems to be abating a bit). I'm afraid of people who willingly eat fungus. That last one is more a joke than anything. But, seriously, who enjoys fungus? Mold... sure. But fungus? Ew.
Jaws is a brilliant film whose legacy was ruined with subpar sequels. Actually, I must apologize as calling Jaws 3 "subpar" is an insult to subpar films throughout history.
Anyway, Katie and I were talking about water and diving and swimming after watching this and I told her how when I had been swimming with manatees along Florida's Gulf coast, I was terrified. However, when I was scuba diving with a school of whitetip reef sharks (which I've been told can be more vicious than Great Whites) a mere 20 feet below me, I was perfectly fine.
I think the difference was that I could see one but couldn't see the other. Manatees are widely regarded as one of the most docile animals you could ever experience in the wild. But the habitat in which they were living was one where I couldn't see my hand two inches below the surface of the water. What the heck else could be under there? And I nearly crapped myself when a manatee (I think?) brushed up against my leg.
This made me pretty certain that one of my biggest fears is a mystery death. I think I want to know what's coming for me before I die. It doesn't have to be a prolonged illness, per se, but if I can look and see a car coming at me, I think I might be capable of accepting it. Of course I won't know for sure until it happens and I'd rather it be later than sooner, but still.
"Hey look! That funnel cloud is coming straight for me!"
"My, what big teeth you have, Mr. Shark!"
"Is that a 9mm or a .38 Special?"
With these, I see it coming. I won't be happy, but it won't be like being killed by a stray bullet or struck by a sudden bolt of lightning.