Rock legend Ozzy Osborne dies at the age of 76 after long battle with  Parkinson’s Disease

Rock legend Ozzy Osborne dies at the age of 76 after long battle with  Parkinson’s Disease

By: Kevin Vickery

So listen, before I even get started, you should know that this is going to be a bit of a departure from my regular columns and more of a reflection of how the music of Ozzy Osborne, AKA, The Prince of Darkness and especially his band Black Sabbath influenced me and shaped me as not only a man, but also as a musician and even as a Christian.  

So if you’re ready for what may be a long-winded story, buckle up and enjoy the ride..

First I’ll say that I was on vacation with my kids when I heard the unfortunate news of Ozzy’s recent passing and I had deadlines on other articles to finish when I returned home so it’s taken me a few days not only to make the time to write this but also to process the whole thing and come up with a way to put my story into words. 

Secondly, I should add that I was just going to keep this story to myself as I never thought it was something I needed to share but in light of his passing and after the requests of a few readers to offer my take on Ozzy, I reluctantly decided to oblige.

So first some back story… I’m  Gen-X, the forgotten generation.  We were raised by the Baby-Boomers with little regard for feelings, and certainly not to be sympathetic, empathetic or generally any form of pathetic. We had no “safe spaces” or “trigger warnings” and were basically raised feral by parents who told us to get out of the house and not come home till dark. We had three channels of bad TV and none of the modern tech that kids today depend upon. Yes, we drank from the garden hose and played with dangerous toys like lawn darts, cap-guns and sling-shots.  We rode our bikes without helmets miles from home to explore creeks, abandoned houses and whatever else we could find.  Nobody knew where we were and nobody really cared.  Sometimes my friends Clint, Ronnie and I simply threw rocks at each other, not just because it was fun but also to improve our aim and increase our threshold for pain.  What can I say – it was a different time.

We had our mouths washed out with soap for swearing and if we got caught stealing cigarettes and smoking them in the drainage culvert under the road, we were forced to literally eat those cigarettes to teach us a lesson, not that I’m speaking from experience or anything.

Our parents played Euchre and tried to figure out who shot J.R, on the show “Dallas” while we were left to entertain ourselves with the big wooden console style stereo as they chain smoked Marlboro’s at the kitchen table and sucked down black coffee.  They told us things like, “Rub a little dirt on it”  when we were injured and, “I’ll give you something to cry about” when our feelings were hurt.

Why is this relevant?  It’s because not only was I a kid coming of age in the 1980s, I was also an only child of a single mom who worked hard to provide for us when my Father wasn’t present.  To add to that, we also lived in rural Henry County, Indiana so it wasn’t exactly the same as it was for other Gen-X kids of my era who lived in town.  My only real friends growing up were my Mom’s two Brother’s kids.  They are my cousins who seemed like siblings to me and they all lived within short walking distance from me as we all had modest homes on my Grandfather’s farm ground which put us in close proximity to each other.  We’d spend our Summers playing basketball, Scrub (look it up) and a game we invented called “hide & go seek ball tag”.

It should also be noted that my cousins and I all went to church every Sunday but our parents did not.  They’d load us up and drop us off at Mechanicsburg United Methodist Church on Sunday mornings and then come pick us up after service. I’m sure that was in part to give them a break from us in a way that they knew we were safe and still learning about the teachings of Jesus.  We didn’t mind because we were all happy to listen to the words of Reverend Wertz and sing along with The Jennings Family Singers, a prominent gospel group of the time, based out of our little church.  We enjoyed  Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, and Church Youth Group activities once we were old enough to attend. 

Sadly, Reverend Wertz eventually retired and was replaced with a younger and far less popular Pastor named, Revered Pomeroy (think Reverend Tim-Tom from the hit show, “The Middle” but with a bad comb-over). He lead service with an accoustic guitar, trying to be hip and cool while sending far more people away from our church than he ever connected with. I did my best to stick with it, attending Church functions and being a part of the youth group.

As time went on my cousins and I developed our own interests and didn’t play together as much and since they didn’t care for the new Pastor they quit coming to Church.  By the time I was entering my early teen years I began to develop an interest in playing music and growing my own musical tastes in various bands and artists as most kids do.

Prior to that, I had really only been exposed to my Mom’s choices in music which included artists like Elvis, Neil Diamond, The Bee Gees, and especially The Beatles. Since my Pap (her Dad) was my Father figure and I spent a lot of time with him, I also developed a taste for his favorite artists like Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, Merle Haggard, and George Jones.

For my 13th Birthday my Mom got me a cheap, Japanese made, Hondo bass guitar and for the following Christmas she gave me my first bass amp, a Peavy Basic 40 that is currently in my daughters room who still uses it daily. Those old, “Mississippi Marshall’s” as my old friend Timmy says, “Don’t ever die, they just keep working and stay heavy”.

Then my Mom gave me the best gift I had ever received without even knowing it.  

Instead of still forcing me to stay outside all day riding my bike around the countryside, picking wild black raspberries out of the fence rows or looking through the side ditches for empty soda bottles to collect and return for a dime a piece, or making me play school related sports that were highly biased towards kids who had the same last names as teachers or School Board members, she allowed me to instead have my bedroom as my own place to listen to music and play along on my bass. 

She let me shut my door and turn up my Magnavox boom box to anything I wanted to listen to without judgement.  Yes, I spent hours listening to artists like Weird Al, Prince and even trying to moon-walk like Michael Jackson but I also spent A LOT of time in there discovering bands like Van Halen, KISS, ZZ Top, Led Zeppelin, and yes, the legendary Black Sabbath featuring vocalist Ozzy Osborne.

So, if you were wondering when this was all going to tie together here it comes…

One particular Summer afternoon, I was in my room, excited to be playing along to my newly acquired cassette tape of Black Sabbath’s 1970 album “Paranoid” that I had picked up in a bargain bin at K-Mart for $3.00.  Sure, the band had been around since before I was born but they were a new discovery to me.  I had already learned “Iron Man” and “Paranoid” but was trying to figure out “War Pigs” (which remains as one of my favorite songs of all time to this day) when there was a knock on the door.

It was my Mom telling me that the Reverend Tim-Tom had dropped by unexpectedly for a visit and wanted to see me.  I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was definitely NOT happy about it and I tried my best to communicate to her that I had no idea of why he was at our house. You see, my Mom was not a big fan of unexpected company, (I mean, who is, right?). And even by 1985 standards you would call someone on their landline phone before just dropping by if you had any social graces, but we were past that because he was already in the house and wanting to come into my room…my sanctuary.. my personal space!… Which I might add was covered floor to ceiling with posters of Van Halen, Farrah Fawcett, and Loni Anderson.

So with my reluctant approval she let him in. He came into my bedroom, saw that I was playing music and asked me what I was listening to.  I showed him the Black Sabbath tape and not only did he tell me that listening to “that type of music” was wrong and going to send me to hell, he went on to explain that he had obviously, “Been sent there by God that day at that exact moment in time to rescue me from the demons of the music I had been listening to.”  He went on to tell me that I should recognize that I was being called to be the Church’s new youth group leader, despite the fact that I was only 14 damn years old.  Even then I thought, “Gimme a break Reverend Tim-Tom” (his real name was Leon).

After he left, I went to my rock in this world, my Mom and explained what he said and I’ll never forget the two most valuable points that she made.

“First of all, do you really think that I’d let you listen to any type of music if I believed that just by listening to it, your literal soul was going to spend eternity in hell?”

I said, “No”.

Secondly, she said “People have been saying that type of stuff ever since Elvis shook his hips and The Beatles had long hair. – That’s the music that I grew up on and still like listening to. – Do you think I’m going to hell for that?”

Again, I said, “No”.

Then she said, “Well, I guess that’s settles it then. – You can listen to whatever music you like, even if it’s not my favorite and you can tell the Preacher to call before he decides he just wants to come by unannounced.”

I said, “Cool, thanks Mom” and returned to my room, closed the door and went back to working on, “War Pigs”.  Nothing was ever spoken of it again and I quit going to church for about the next 35 years or so.

To this day, I apply my Mom’s way of thinking when dealing with my own two young Daughter’s musical tastes.  The sounds and styles that appeal to them might not be my thing but if they want to listen to it then it’s fine by me.  There’s a lot worse things they could be doing to than listening to music, no matter who the artist is.  It’s my duty to let them develop their own preferences and not try to influence them into just what I may think is quality music.  After all, my own tastes range from all ages of classic rock, hard rock, heavy metal, classic country, bluegrass, blues, big band swing, vintage pop, and even some old school gangsta-rap.

I will add that I eventually did reconnect with the Church and even currently play in the Praise Band at Mt. Summit Christian Church every Sunday and have been doing so for the last five years or so.  I started out playing bass but for the last couple years I’ve become the drummer. 

I love doing it and there is absolutely no judgement at all by the Pastor, his wife or the Associate Pastor whom I play along with every Sunday.  They don’t judge me for the fact that most of my musical performance skills have come through a lifetime of playing secular music in various rock, country and bluegrass bands, performing at various festivals, bars, private parties and whatever other gigs continue to be thrown my way.  I am also thankful for their grace and understanding as an old rocker like me gets to learn from them that Contemporary Christian Music has come a LONG WAY since back in the day when it was just artists like Amy Grant and Petra and they also don’t give me a hard time when I accidentally cuss at practice after I screwing up my parts.

So is there a moral to this story?  Do I have Ozzy Osborne to thank for this path to enlightenment?  I don’t know anything for sure but I do know this.  His music and his presence will be forever felt by myself and anyone who ever loved or was influenced by hard rock and heavy metal in general.

I could go on for days about all the great songs he’s recorded both as a member of Black Sabbath and as a solo artist.  I could mention all the amazing musicians, especially guitarists he’s worked with over his nearly 60 year musical career.  I could list all the awards he’s won and offer the stats on the millions of albums he’s sold. I could talk about the handful of times I’ve seen  him perform live over the years, dating back to the mid-1990s in which I thought every one of those tours was to be his last.  I could mention how his final “Back to the Beginning” concert was such a significant ending to his influential, multi generational legacy, and how all the proceeds from that massive concert event went to Parkinson’s Disease research.

But, that wasn’t the point of this piece.  You already know all that as it has been heavily reported recently and deservingly so.  The point of this piece was to simply give one man’s example of the positive influence that the rock and roll legend, Ozzy Osborne had on his own life and musical path as a kid and as an adult.

He was far more than just a hard rock singer.  He was a songwriter, an entertainer and a master showman. He was also a loving husband, devoted father and grandfather.  We was a rock and roll icon.

RIP Ozzy. Your presence and legacy will be forever felt, missed and respected by all those who came to rock in your presence and will continue to do so in your absence. 

Fly High Again.