What Would You Do?

 The question I have for myself is this: Would I have the courage of my convictions to not call in the Army, Navy, National Guard and those pesky airplanes if King Kong were to actually show up in my city and begin to stomp about in that way he has?

Big question. Lots of words. Plenty to consider. That's why I am taking you all with me. At this point in my life, knowing what I know, would I still be afraid of a twenty-five foot tall gorilla rampaging through the downtown area? Or would I take a more laissez faire attitude, telling my fellow suburbanites that the buildings in downtown have been in a state of disrepair for years and a certain amount of wear and tear has to be expected in a major metropolitan area. Gentrification, urban renewal or giant robots. Time takes its toll. King Kong showing up might be just the thing that local businesses could benefit from: There would almost certainly be increased foot traffic through the area afterward. It may not be exactly the kind of tourist attraction that we all wanted or expected, but that big hole in the ground made by the impact of a giant ape's foot might be just the thing to draw in those out-of-towners. 

I would also imagine that there is money to be had from our federal government. If you can get a loan for repairs after a hurricane, I am guessing most states have something in place for acts of enormous beasts. Or the aforementioned robots. Why not take the opportunity to build it back better?

Then there's the humanitarian angle. Kong is, after all, an animal. A really big animal with a laser focus on what he wants, but don't we owe him the same latitude for his behavior that we would give any creature, great or small? If we hadn't taunted him with that blonde girl in the first place, Kong would almost certainly still be King of his own jungle, instead of a gargantuan delinquent tearing up the city looking for his dream girl. I myself am married to a pretty blonde girl, and I wonder if I could let such behavior go unchecked. I should note here that at no point during my pursuit of this pretty blonde girl did I pull a subway train from its tracks or climb up the side of a skyscraper. 

Not that the thought didn't occur to me. But I am more evolved, and I am also not twenty-five feet tall.

So what would I do if King Kong showed up in my neighborhood? Would I try to reason with him, make a deal or attempt to lure him back across land and sea to his ancestral home, where all would be forgotten and forgiven? I do believe that Kong's heart is in the right place, after all. Right in the middle of that great big chest of his. And while he may not mean any or all of the harm he caused, I believe that it wasn't the airplanes or beauty that killed the beast. It was that knucklehead Carl Denham. I think the last scene of the film should be a police officer handing the master showman and captor of King Kong a broom. You clean it up, mister showbiz.