The Ozzman cameth
Hello to all of you twelve people who are reading this blog when I don’t update it–and to the one mystery person who reads it when I do update. (I think I know who you are, mystery person. You rock.)
On January 26, the Ozzman cameth to the Borders in Columbus Circle. Here’s what it looked like.
Here is the full transcript of my conversation with Ozzy:
Me: Hello, Mr. Ozzy.
Ozzy: (looks up from my book that he is signing) ‘Ello. (Smiles) Where’re you from?
Me: Houston…?
Ozzy: Wha?
Me: Houston, Texas.
Ozzy: (smile fades into frown) Aow. (goes back to signing book)
The End.
It made my day. What also made my day is the Black Sabbath mix that @DoctorNerve burned for me. Why have I waited until now to get into such awesome songs? I’ll tell you why: residual fear and guilt from my Southern Baptist upbringing. Luckily, in his new autobiography, Ozzy explains that Sabbath never had any intention of associating themsevles with Satanists. In fact, he talks about avoiding them when they stalked him at hotels. So, that’s good news for me because it means I can listen to lyrics like “My name is Lucifer, please take my hand” and think, “Oh, he’s just joking, haha.” Guilt absolved.
(Says quick prayer of spiritual protection. Thank you, God.)
(No, really. I do still say prayers of spiritual protection. They are comforting, and they work.)
Amen.
Incidentally, the book (I Am Ozzy) is fucking hilarious. Who knows how much of it the Ozzman actually wrote himself; I wouldn’t be surprised if Sharon was his ghostwriter for much of it. But it’s an entertaining read. I recommend it.
