I should mention that these posts are in no particular order. Having said that, “Shark in a Jar” has always had a place close to my heart. It’s a shark and it’s in a jar.
I came into possession of this when I was a child on a family vacation in Maine. That same trip saw me buy two Hermit Crabs, who “escaped” the day before we left. (Even now I suspect that my parents released Hermie and Herbert.) I’m not sure of the ethics of owning a dead, pickled shark but I have it and I plan to keep it. It makes me feel like some crazy wizard or some shit.
Once when I was a kid, probably about twelve, I opened the jar to see what was going on in there. Needless to say it stank and the shark had rough skin. After spilling some shark brine on my suit – I wore suits even then – I learned my lesson and never opened it again. I assume it still stinks and that the shark still has rough skin.
