by Dave McDave » Sun Jan 01, 2012 2:45 pm
Christmas Eve, 1990: A barely seven years old boy and budding palaeontologist excitedly sat on the sofa at his Granddad’s house. It was on this night that a twenty-one year love affair began...
Almost everyone was either out or preoccupied with smoking on the back door step, leaving me to my own devices in the dusty, floral covered lounge. Channel Four here in the UK was generally the only place we could get to see foreign films, and usually well past bed time, but I guess the festive season had led to an absent mind in my mother, and I was allowed to stay up. In Masters of the Universe PJs while gripping my little T-Rex Early Learning Centre figure I stared in disbelief as something amazing played out on the television before me...
Destroy All Monsters.
I was hooked. It resonated in me far beyond its means, and stimulated that colossal urge that all hyperactive young boys seem to have to destroy things and be the centre of all attention, roaring all the way. Godzilla and me were kindred spirits, divided by celluloid and a couple of hundred feet, but that didn’t matter; from then on I knew I was giant monster trapped inside a child’s body.
My presents that week were great, but none of them compared to the gift of the boxes they came in, for these were no mere card structures; they were disassembled buildings waiting to be erected before being swiped at with a scream of barely containable malice. For years after ever pile of leaves, every frozen puddle, every soda can and polystyrene container on the street would suffer my wrath as I crushed through them in the stylings of my hero.
Of course, Jurassic Park eventually came out and while it was amazing, no Tyrannosaur could hold a candle to Godzilla; the King of the Monsters was so much bigger, and while all the other kids at school didn’t believe me, or doubted the prowess of my idol, I knew the truth. Godzilla was the best, and I would fight anyone who said otherwise, regardless of whether they’d even heard of him or not, that simple.
Eventually that hyperactive little boy grew up, in body at least, but he remained a steadfast fan, only now with a new problem; I’m that guy who just can’t find a single person who shares my love and semi-intimate knowledge of Godzilla. No one from my social circle of associates even finds the subject remotely entertaining and more than once I’ve had friends complain if I put on Godzilla movies, a fact that has only been proven wrong by the alternative ‘Lake Texakana’ sound track on Gamera 2: Advent of Legion...
And so I am forced to dwell in the dark of my room when I should be outside, or sketching, or trying to find some meaning in my life, because it is only when I am at this laptop do I ever get a chance to share and chat about my passion. It’s only on forums like this that I can express my fanship, and it is because of Godzilla that I tend to be a boring, shut in geek...
I wouldn’t have it any other way... ;p
"Nature has a way sometimes of reminding Man of just how small he is..."
- - Steve Martin