Sunday, 8 January 2012
Day 8 – Blondie - Atomic
I’ve had a lot of crushes in the past – and Debbie Harry was one of them. I wasn’t such a fan of Blondie but I absolutely loved Atomic.
Here are some of the women I worshipped from afar in the 1970’s:
Debbie Harry was amazing and had an edge that I loved. She was dangerous - or at least she gave that impression when performing. And I loved that about her.
I loved the Bionic Woman (being a geek) but the main reason I watched the show was because of Lindsay Wagner. She was just a clean cut American girl next door – with the power to punch a hole through the wall – see what I mean about liking dangerous women?
Have I got a problem? Jaclyn Smith of Charlie’s Angels fame, could “kick ass” as the Americans like to say. Again, she was dangerous but also very lovely.
And the most dangerous of all was Wonder Woman, a lovely lady who could deflect bullets and had a whip powerful enough to scare even the most determined masochist.
There were other famous ladies that I fancied but those listed above were by far my favourites. I’ve always had a penchant for strong women and I guess my choices reflect that. That didn’t stop me from liking the girl next door though – I just love women who can stand up for themselves.
In 1980, all the girls my age were just as scared about life as I was and I found it very difficult to convince them that I was a worthy boyfriend. When I split up with C, I did so with nothing to fall back on and spent my final year at school embarrassingly free of love.
Mates at school and at home all seemed to be settling down into cosy little relationships – and yes they were becoming relationships. Even my two younger sisters had boyfriends.
It didn’t help that I was shy. I was fine asking girls out for S (as I said in my previous post) but I simply didn’t have the courage to express my feelings to the girls I craved. When I did (and it took a lot of courage I can tell you) I was told in no uncertain terms that I was not suitable boyfriend material.
One girl, with whom I was very friendly, jokingly said to me when I was around 18:
“When you finish university and get a great job, will you come back to Walsall and marry me?”
Like a bloody idiot I misread the signs. I plucked up the courage to ask her out but couldn’t cross the line to do so. I begged S to do it for me and, remembering past favours, went to her house to ask her out for me.
He came back and told me the bad news.
“She says that it will never happen.”
Again my soul was savaged and my heart fed into a shredder.
The next time she saw me, she told me that she liked me as a friend – but that was all. She confirmed that her marriage quip had been just a joke.
I felt like a complete and utter buffoon. I felt humiliated.
Thankfully S was the soul of discretion and so was she. Nobody else knew so I was spared wider humiliation.
None of this stopped me from feeling gutted and although the girl and I kind of remained friends I found myself drifting away from her. I haven’t seen her since 1981 either – but recently she found me on “Friends Reunited” and we are kind of “cyber friends” even though I have only briefly asked how she is.
So as well as having to make important career decisions, pass important exams, deal with hormones, and cope with untold other stresses, my heart was being eroded gradually by failure after failure with women.
1980 and 1981 was the time when my life started to change and not just because of A Level exams and the prospect of going to university. I had to change on a personal level and I finally began to take steps to do so…
…starting with my hair.