Gorillaphobe

I've had a phobia of gorillas for a good part of my life. For me, there are two kinds of gorillas in this world - the ones you find in the zoo and the ones you find walking around on the street. I don't know about you, but I find the street gorillas to be much more threatening than the ones behind 30 feet of glass.

My fear is, of course, the direct result of a traumatic experience I had as a child. I was probably six or seven, along for the ride, minding my own business. The youth group at our church was having a Halloween party in my grandma's barn and part of the fun included a 15-mile hay ride to her house. My brother and sister were in high school at the time, so they were riding in the wagon ahead while my mom, dad and I followed in the car.

To get to my grandma's house, you actually had to go over the river and through the woods. Well, as I remember, we were near the river and thick into the woods when this giant gorilla jumped out of the bushes and attacked our group. My parents did what any responsible adults would in such a circumstance - they left their young child alone in the backseat of the car. It didn't take long for the monster to spot it's young, vulnerable prey. (Cue danger music - child to provide blood-curdling scream) Before I knew it, the gorilla was in the front seat, leaning over to eat me.

I must have passed out, because the next thing I remember is being at my grandma's house. The gorilla must have hitched a ride because he was there too. This time, he was trying to get to me in the actual house. Thankfully, my grandma locked the door and I have obviously survived to this day.

Someone said something about it just being our neighbor, Jim, dressed up in a costume. I tell you what, Jim has never seemed the same to me since. To this day, I picture him as a gorilla dressed up as my neighbor.

There was a short time recently when I co-existed with a gorilla. The radio station I worked at in Colorado had a mascot that went to many of our live broadcasts. His name was Nanners. Most kids liked him. I sympathized with the ones that would scream their heads off at the sight of him. At least he was a friendly-looking gorilla. I guess that's why I was able to warm up to him. It was helpful therapy.

And then there's today when I met my husband for lunch. It was all innocent enough. The sun was shining, the food was good, company even better...all of sudden, he was there. A gorilla walked by the window, across the parking lot, to a place beside the street only a few feet from my car. He was mean-looking, bicuspids and all (dental-friendly term for FANGS!). This particular gorilla was advertising some new restaurant next door that I will never visit. I kept staring at him the rest of lunch, noting his every move and dreading that at some unavoidable moment, lunch would end and I would have to walk to my car. Vulnerable Prey, out in the open.

Then, just as quickly as he had come, he went back inside the restaurant.

(Sigh of Relief)

God has granted me another day on this great earth.