1975.

My parents had a ‘discussion’, about whether I should be able to go to the drive-in with them.

I was 3, going on 4.

Happily (for me at any rate), according to her version of the story, my mother won out and I was introduced to the world of movies and escapism with what has become my all time favorite film… Spielberg’s Jaws.

Unlike another movie that would come along two long years later, I don’t remember all the details of the night. But I have impressions, that have been aided by details that I dug up from my parents.

Despite their worry, I ate that film up like that mechanical 25 footer chewed up The Orca and Quint.

Which actualy leads me to a quick side trip, if you care to follow me, I can’t help but wonder what brought my parents to that drive-in in the first place…

My parents aren’t, and I’m imagining even when they were younger, weren’t fervent movie goers. I know mom enjoyed a lot of Hitchcock and Cary Grant films, but my dad never seemed to be interested in the medium at all. And please believe that will resurface over and over again throughout my youth… trying to convince my dad to take us to the movies, or that putting my meager allowance towards a video rental or a jaunt to the theater wasn’t a waste of time and money.

I can only imagine that everyone they knew were talking about this amazing movie, and they finally broke, piled into our little vw rabbit, and off we went, leaving my baby sister with a sitter (I certainly don’t have any memories of her there with us, but then again, the only thing I really do recall is the movie itself).

The drive-in at that point was no longer at their height, but still going strong, and my dad hung the dingy, beaten, little mono speaker on our car window.

I don’t remember popcorn, and I was certainly too young for a soda, and lords know what my parents were up to, it was a drive in after all, but I was there, in the front seat, eyes glued to a massive white screen that was about to take me on a journey to see things that I hadn’t even imagined at that point, and would be with me the rest of my life.

Are there frightening images in Jaws…? According to the ratings boards there are… The film was originally rated PG, at a time when there were only the three categories, G, PG and R, although I couldn’t help but notice it’s been re-rated since then, as the back of my 30th Anniversary DVD edition testifies, to a 14A in Canada.

But for me… Not a one. Ben Gardener’s head popping out of the hole, nope. The severed leg dropping down to the ocean bottom, nope. “You’re gonna need a bigger boat…” Loved it.

After the movie, Jaws was my thing! (And a stuffed bunny that I lost years ago, who I think didn’t survive one of our frequent moves, poor guy.) I wandered about in this t-shirt that had a picture of a great white shark, it showed the gaping maw of its mouth and black eyes (“before they roll over white…”). (And I’m fairly sure it wasn’t licensed merchandise either, anybody could use pictures of sharks, and mom bought me one that I wore ALL the time!)

But oh, that movie, no, that experience…

I was wrapped up in the images, the adventure.

And Williams incredible score. (He has since gone on to score most of the events of my life.)

Whether or not it was planned, and I doubt my parents even gave it a second thought, Spielberg, Williams, and film in general took root, and formed a life long relationship, that has shaped me and molded me into the opinionated movie snob I am today.

From the first strains of the score that movie is now part of my inherent DNA, it’s shaped who I am, or at least laid the foundation for what was to come, I’ve followed Spielberg’s career since then, through good and not so good,and stood by The Beard all the way (do I love Kingdom of the Crystal Skull? No. But are there things I like in it? Yes, and that’s why I own it.)

For me this movie not only gave birth to my love of film, movies, and cinema (and they are all different), but has become the greatest of things to me…

Comfort food for the soul.

When I need it, I throw it on, make myself a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches, and a big bowl of tomato soup…

and bliss…

I don’t know if it’s cause it lets me go back to being three (I don’t think it is) or the fact that it’s been part of my life for so long it’s like Linus’ blanket, always there, and always comforting.

But Jaws is bliss for me.

I know the dialogue backwards and forwards. My friend Dennis would start me off with just a line, and I would run off and do the Mayor’s entire speech to Hooper about being in National Geographic.

Jaws.

My first movie experience.

And my good friend.

It’s weird to think of a shark that way, but I do.