Me too, DtG; though the flip-side is a deep seated inferiority complex dating from the time when my potential Hero Status at School was denied me by a copy of the Penguin Book of English Folk Songs. It went something like:

Headmaster: You do realise, Sweeney, that songs about incest and sunsequent sorocide are going to be deeply upsetting to certain pupils, especially those of a nervous disposition?
Unrepentant Adolescent Self: Yes, sir.
HM: Quite apart from the fact that the subject matter of such a song can be said to obscene regardless of the fact that you almost caused young Daisy Michaelmas to have a nervous breakdown?
UAS: Yes, sir.
HM: Poor girl didn't sleep all weekend according to her mother, who only got the full story when on the one occasion she did get to sleep she woke up screaming in the wee small hours. I suppose this one of those new fangled Punk Rock songs that the media is currently up in arms about, is it?
UAS: No, sir.
HM: No? Then, what the devil sort of song is it, boy?
UAS: It's a Folk Song, sir.
HM: A Folk Song, you say?
UAS: Yes, sir.
HM: A Folk Song as in - Lovely Joan you mean?
UAS: Yes, sir.
HM: And where did you get this - Folk Song, Sweeney?
UAS: From a book, sir.
HM: A book, eh? A what book might this be?
UAS: This book here, sir.
HM: The Penguin Book of English Folk Songs, eh? Edited by Ralph Vaughan Williams and A.L.Lloyd. My goodness, Sweeney - I'm impressed.
And - which song was it that so upset young Miss Michaelmass?
UAS: It's on page sixty-five, sir - right after Lovely Joan.
HM: Sixty-five. Ah! Yes. Lovely Joan. Lucy Wan. Jolly good. Now this casts an entirely different light on the matter - quite a different light altogether. My goodness, Sweeney - to think that such songs are still so much a part of the shadows of our collective subconsciousness that they might still have such a profound effect on the tender hearted - even in this day and age. Not your fault at all, of course, though you might like to assess your audience more carefully in future.
UAS: Yes, sir.

35 years on, I still live with the shame.