I'm with Liz on the "argh!" reaction. At this distance I can't exactly remember what the problem was, but it, The White Heather Club and Jimmy Shand contributed to my aversion to folk music which lasted until I discovered that it wasn't meant to be civilised. (Thank you Hamish Imlach!)

"One misty moisty morning, when cloudy was the weather, dah-de-dah an old man, clothed all in leather" always gave me the creeps. I imagined a leathery-skinned monster - before Dr. Who, mind you - a sort of humanoid woodlouse. (I'm almost getting a panic attack now!)

And music and movement, too. Surely designed by a sadist to punish the 90% of us who didn't have a clue about what dance a daffodil would do to Mussorgsky.