Godzilla and other acquired tastes

I'm sure we can all agree that there are some things that take time to get used to.

The first time you try spinach, for instance (not recommended by this author, but there are plenty that do like it, I'm sure.) Or when a new pet joins the family. And then there's some things that take years to adjust to.

Like Godzilla.

When I was little, sometimes my family and I would go to Old Town, a theme park in Kissimmee, FL. There were small rollercoasters, old-fashioned taffy-pulling places, and an A&W restaurant where you could get root beer out of a tap. (I've always loved that!)

Now, it may have changed a fair amount since the last time I was there, but I remember there being this arcade/playplace that started on one side of the street and bridged over the top to connect to another arcade on the other side. We kids would go climbing up one side and down the other, sliding down the slides contentedly for what seemed like hours. But then there was always one thing that made us pause.

On the other end of the tunnel-bridge and slide, there was a cardboard cutout of Godzilla. (The classic one from the '50s). It had some sort of motion detector on it, and whenever people got close, it played the classic Godzilla roar. You know the one I mean.

So here's a little kid, about five years old, and I'm sliding down this slide and I hear that. 

Total and complete NOPE moment. I don't remember exactly what I would do in response, but I always hear Mom and Dad say it as, "Oh yeah, you guys hated that thing!"

So I imagine something like this.

And yet, here I am, years later, counting down the days until the Godzilla remake is released in theaters. I am definitely willing to shell out the cash to see that on the big screen! Go figure: the Godzilla roar is now one of my favorite sound effects, along with the classic noise from Transformers (you know, the 8 hz repeated sound whenever they change forms? I don't really know if there's a name for it.)

I guess it was an acquired taste.