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There is a time of year I anticipate more than any other, dear readers, and that time is upon us. I love this time of year so much that it causes a real, pressing, heart shrinking anxiety within me to have to miss it, all because I don’t have cable.

I speak of the glory that is Shark Week.

I love sharks.

How much?

I’d pick sharks over Batman.

If you’ve been reading, you know how much I love Batman, so sharks are kind of a big deal.

My fascination with these awesome predators was peaked as a young child with the movie, Jaws. I hadn’t seen it, but a neighborhood playmate had and she always made us play it. I don’t know if I even had a good idea of what a shark looked like, I was that young. All I knew was the ladder laid across the lawn was safe, and if even so much as a toe touched the grass I would die. It was a seriously scary game.

A few years later my mother finally gave me permission to see Jaws and after that I was officially hooked (unintentional fishing pun. . . maybe). Could something that huge and awesome and petrifying really exist? If I touched my toe to the ocean would I be bitten in half like Quint? For a while, that was my biggest fear, being bitten in half. I, like so many others, was terrified of sharks because of Jaws, but somehow fascinated by them nonetheless.

When I was eleven I was introduced to the magic of Shark Week while staying at my grandmother’s house during a heat wave. Mimi had central air and cable, so life was pretty sweet. Every night my eyes would be glued to the shark documentaries. I began to learn about what I feared and the fear became a heartfelt appreciation for an animal designed for predatory perfection.

For years after that I made a point to never miss Shark Week. I was no longer terrified of being bitten in half (I mean, yeah it wouldn’t be pleasant, and I’d really rather not, but hey, if it happens, it happens) but the idea of not watching Shark Week filled me with that same kind of anguish. I vowed never to miss it.

And then we cancelled cable.

Husband and I rationalized that cable is a “want,” not a need.

On the other hand, for me, Shark Week is a NEED. Knowing this, Husband gave me the 20th Anniversary Collection of Shark Week on DVD, thusly securing his place in my heart forever while proving himself an excellent provider.

But I still long for the new and exciting Shark Week episodes every summer. . . what’s a lady to do?

INTERNET TO THE RESCUE!

For the glory of gnashing teeth and supreme excellence I present for you my Lack of Televised Shark Week Survival Kit:

• Of course, the Shark Week homepage
• Sharks jumping! (If this is not some of the most amazing footage you’ve ever seen we can’t be friends. You must understand: Sharks are ultimately the coolest.)
• Fuck Yeah Sharks! Not always classy, but still all kinds of awesome. For instance http://fuckyeahsharks.tumblr.com/post/230858634/more-of-the-shark-attack-victim-costume-from-erin .

Salvation also lies with YouTube, where you can watch clips from Shark Weeks of yore until your very eyes roll over white with visual feeding frenzied joy.*

Here you can find:

• Shark Hypnosis!
• Do sharks have a color preference? An important question, to be sure.

BBC Worldwide also has a nice variety of shark-tastic videos, but they’re not all teeth and blood. Take this clip about the basking shark. And, while I’m not crazy about the narration, this clip about Megladon blows my mind. (Thanks, Britain!)

And if you STILL don’t think Sharks rock, then check it: Confirmation by NPR.

We must all strive to live every week like it’s Shark Week. Thanks to the Internet my summer is complete again.

*Warning: Evil still lurks on the YouTubes and you may, trying to satisfy your craving for more incredible shark footage, be tempted to click on videos with titles like, “Man gets too close to a great white shark and it attacks him.” Do not click on it. You will be Rick Rolled.