The First Time A Girl Liked Me

The first time a girl told me that she liked me was in fifth grade. I responded by putting sharp tacks on her chair and kicking her. She said: “One day you’ll know what it is like to love someone who kicks you.” She was right. In sixth grade, the most beautiful girl in the class asked me to be her boyfriend. There was nothing I wanted more in the world than to say yes to her, but I was too afraid and instead I teased her. I am now a 58 yo bachelor and I fear I am still self-defeating with women. I get scared when a woman loves me. I am scared of being swallowed up and losing my freedom.

Grok says:

It sounds like you’ve carried some heavy patterns with you for a long time—ones that started way back in fifth grade and keep echoing through your life. That first girl’s words were eerily spot-on, weren’t they? She saw something you didn’t fully clock until later: that push-pull dance of wanting connection but dodging it when it gets too real. And now, at 58, you’re piecing together how fear’s been steering the ship.
What you’re describing—getting spooked when a woman shows love, worrying about losing yourself— isn’t rare. It’s like your brain’s wired an alarm system: “Danger! She likes you! Run or ruin it!” That fifth-grade tack move and the sixth-grade tease? Kid versions of self-sabotage. You wanted the beautiful girl’s “yes” but couldn’t handle the vulnerability, so you flipped it into something safe—teasing, distance. Now, as a bachelor, it’s less about tacks and more about walls, but the root’s the same: fear of being swallowed up, like love’s a trap that’ll cost you your freedom.
Here’s the thing: freedom’s real, and it matters, but so does connection. You’re not wrong to value your independence—plenty of people lose themselves in relationships and regret it. But there’s a flip side: dodging love altogether might be its own kind of cage, keeping you stuck replaying those old playground scenes. That fear of being consumed? It’s worth staring down. Maybe it’s not about losing yourself but figuring out what “you” even means when someone’s close.
You’ve got hindsight now—58 years of it. Those early moments shaped you, sure, but they don’t have to own you. Ever thought about what you’d say to that sixth-grade kid if you could? Or what you’d do different if a woman liked you today? No pressure to answer—just something to chew on. What’s got you reflecting on this now?

I tend to date women who don’t take much effort to get into bed and then I tell myself that they’re not wife material. I get intimidated by beautiful women and suitable women.

Grok says:

It’s like you’ve built a system that keeps you in a loop—going for the low-effort hookups, then writing them off as “not wife material,” while the women who might actually fit that role scare you off. That’s a pretty slick way to stay safe, even if it leaves you spinning your wheels. You’re not alone in this; plenty of guys fall into patterns where the easy choice feels good until it doesn’t.
The “easy to bed” part—it’s convenient, right? No big chase, no risk of rejection, just instant gratification. But then you slap a label on them to justify bailing: “She’s not serious enough.” Meanwhile, the beautiful or “suitable” ones—whatever that means to you—flip the script. They intimidate you, maybe because they demand more: more effort, more vulnerability, more of a real shot at something lasting. You’re stuck between dodging the shallow end and fearing the deep end.
That split’s telling. It’s not just about the women—it’s about what you’re dodging in yourself. The low-effort ones let you keep control, no strings, no threat to that freedom you mentioned. But the “suitable” ones? They might ask you to show up in ways that feel like a gamble—like sixth-grade you, wanting to say yes but freezing. Beauty or “suitability” could mean stakes: What if she sees you and you’re not enough? Or worse, what if she stays and you have to figure out who you are in that?
You’re 58, still a bachelor, and spotting this now. That’s not nothing—it’s a crack in the pattern. Maybe the move isn’t jumping straight to the intimidating ones but asking why they spook you. Is it their looks, their vibe, or what you think they’d expect? And those “not wife material” women—do you really believe that, or is it just a handy exit sign? No rush to fix it, but unpacking it might shake something loose. What’s one thing about the “suitable” ones that freaks you out most?

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Why doesn’t Air Supply get any respect?

Grok says:

Air Supply’s lack of respect often comes down to a mix of timing, perception, and the music world’s biases. They hit their peak in the late ’70s and early ’80s with soft rock ballads like “All Out of Love” and “Making Love Out of Nothing at All”—songs that were massive on the charts but leaned hard into schmaltzy, emotional territory. That sound was gold for radio back then, but it also pegged them as “uncool” to critics and tastemakers who favored edgier stuff like punk, new wave, or later, grunge. The duo—Graham Russell and Russell Hitchcock—got tagged as lightweight, sentimental crooners, which didn’t help their cred in a rock culture that often prizes grit over polish.
Part of it’s also the cheese factor. Their lyrics and delivery are unabashedly earnest, which can feel over-the-top or dated to modern ears. When the ’80s faded and irony took over, bands like Air Supply became easy punching bags—think “guilty pleasure” vibes. Yet, they’ve got a loyal fanbase and still tour today, which shows they resonate with plenty of people who don’t care about the snobbery. Respect’s subjective—critics might snub them, but packed venues say otherwise.

Is there any thoughtful analysis of Air Supply?

Grok says:

Thoughtful analysis of Air Supply isn’t as common as it is for, say, Dylan or the Stones, but there’s some out there if you dig past the surface-level nostalgia takes. Most serious looks at them come from broader studies of soft rock, pop trends, or ’80s culture rather than standalone deep dives. Still, here’s what emerges from the chatter.
Musicologist Philip Lambert, in his work on pop harmony, touches on Air Supply’s craft—specifically how Graham Russell’s songwriting leans on lush, diatonic chord progressions that prioritize emotional payoff over complexity. Tracks like “Lost in Love” use straightforward structures but layer them with Hitchcock’s soaring tenor to hit that sweet spot of accessibility and drama. It’s not groundbreaking, but it’s deliberate—engineered for maximum heart-tug, which explains their radio dominance (seven Top 5 hits from 1980-1983).
Cultural critics sometimes frame them in the context of late-’70s/early-’80s escapism. Writers like Carl Wilson, in his book Let’s Talk About Love, don’t focus on Air Supply directly but explore why sentimental pop gets dismissed. He argues it’s less about the music and more about class and taste—soft rock’s middlebrow appeal made it a target for hipper-than-thou gatekeepers. Air Supply, with their polished production and lovelorn lyrics, fit that “uncool” mold perfectly.
Online, you’ll find fans and niche bloggers—like on Rate Your Music or pop culture sites—praising their consistency and vocal chemistry. A 2021 piece on American Songwriter called them “masters of the power ballad,” crediting producer Clive Davis for amplifying their strengths, though it stops short of heavy analysis. X posts from fans often highlight Hitchcock’s range or the duo’s live staying power—they’re still gigging in 2025, which says something about their underrated durability.
The lack of academic theses on them probably ties to their genre’s low prestige. Soft rock rarely gets the reverence of jazz or metal. But if you’re after a thoughtful angle, their work’s a case study in how melody and sincerity can conquer charts while losing the “respect” game. What’s it about them that’s got you curious?

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What makes for a great 80s party?

Grok says:

A great ‘80s party is all about nailing the vibe—big hair, bold colors, and that mix of cheesy fun and rebellious energy. Here’s what makes it pop, whether you’re in Australia, America, or anywhere else:
Music That Slaps
The ‘80s sound is the backbone—think synth-pop, new wave, and hair metal. Crank up bangers like “Sweet Child O’ Mine” by Guns N’ Roses, “Billie Jean” by Michael Jackson, “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey, or “Take On Me” by A-ha. Add some Madonna, Prince, and Cyndi Lauper for the dance floor. A mixtape vibe or a Spotify playlist with uninterrupted flow keeps the energy high. Bonus points for a karaoke setup—everyone secretly wants to belt out “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

Outrageous Outfits
Dress code is non-negotiable. Go for neon leg warmers, shoulder pads, acid-washed jeans, or leather jackets. Guys can rock mullets (wigs work) and aviators; girls can pile on scrunchies, fingerless gloves, and chunky jewelry. Thrift stores are goldmines for this. Push it further with costumes inspired by ‘80s icons—think Freddie Mercury’s tight white tank or Molly Ringwald’s prom dress from Pretty in Pink. The louder, the better.

Retro Decor
Transform the space with ‘80s flair—neon signs, Rubik’s Cubes as table props, and posters of Back to the Future or The Breakfast Club. String up some fairy lights or a disco ball for that roller-rink feel. If you’ve got a CRT TV, loop MTV music videos or VHS classics like Ghostbusters. Black-and-white checkered floors or inflatable boomboxes scream excess.

Food and Drinks
Keep it nostalgic and simple—think deviled eggs, mini sausage rolls, or a cheese ball with crackers. Australia might lean into fairy bread (sprinkles on buttered bread) or Tim Tams; America could go for sloppy joes or Jell-O shots. Drinks? Tab cola, neon-colored cocktails (Blue Lagoon or Midori Splice), or a punch bowl with floating sherbet. Pop Rocks as a garnish ups the kitsch.

Games and Activities
Get people moving with a dance-off—Moonwalk or Running Man attempts are instant crowd-pleasers. Set up an ‘80s trivia quiz (Who shot J.R.? What was Pac-Man’s original name?) or a video game corner with Atari classics or a Nintendo with Super Mario Bros.. A photo booth with props—big sunglasses, fake mustaches—lets everyone ham it up.

Attitude
The ‘80s were bold and unapologetic, so the vibe should be too. Encourage over-the-top energy—think air guitar solos or dramatic lip-sync battles. It’s not about perfection; it’s about leaning into the absurdity. Dim the lights, crank the volume, and let people lose themselves in the nostalgia.

Tie it to dating differences if you want: an Aussie ‘80s party might feel more like a loose, mate-filled house bash with casual flirting, while an American one could have a flashier, prom-night edge with bigger romantic gestures. Either way, it’s about fun, not finesse. What part of this are you vibing with most?

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Are Books For Losers?

My mate says that books are for losers and that you can determine the worth of a woman by the size of her breasts. Is this true?

Grok says:

Your mate’s got some bold opinions, but let’s break this down. Books being “for losers” is a hot take that doesn’t hold much water. Reading’s just a tool—some use it to get smarter, others to escape, and plenty of successful people swear by it. It’s not about the book itself; it’s about what you do with it. Calling it a loser move is like saying eating’s for chumps because you can just chug protein shakes.

As for judging a woman’s worth by her breast size—that’s a shaky metric at best. Worth’s a messy thing to pin down; it’s more about character, actions, or whatever you personally value. Reducing it to a physical trait is lazy thinking, like saying a guy’s only as good as his beard length. People have tried worse yardsticks, sure, but it’s not exactly a universal truth. Sounds like your mate’s just stirring the pot—or maybe he’s stuck in a weird 80s movie mindset.

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Give This Sheila A Shot

I never gave this sheila Gillian Tett (FT) a chance because I thought what am I going to learn about money and politics from a 57 yo sheila with a PhD in Anthropology but I was wrong. She’s great.

She writes in the FT:

This month, many investors feel dazed and confused. No wonder: as the US government flirts with another shutdown and President Donald Trump intensifies his trade war, indices of economic uncertainty have skyrocketed above even the 2020 pandemic or the global financial crisis of 2008.

But the uncertainty could get worse. For amid all the tariff shocks, there is another question hovering: could Trump’s assault on free trade lead to attacks on free capital flows too? Might tariffs on goods be a prelude to tariffs on money?

I guess I was the drongo and she was class.

According to Google AI: “In Australian slang, “drongo” means a stupid or slow-witted person, often used as a mild insult, and is thought to have originated from an unsuccessful racehorse of the same name.”

I’m imprisoned in my outdated notions of gender. I’m the victim here. Please help me. I want to be a better man. I want to be a city slicker with genuine book learning not just another bigot from the bush.

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