Irony Can Be Ecstacy

"O to the ZZY"

So I'm sitting here yesterday morning and banging my head to old Black Sabbath as I watched a television biography about Ozzy Osbourne.

Now, I am a lot of things but mostly - they're all part of a down to earth, fairly conservative, laid back and easygoing me. I will say, however, that I absolutely loved Black Sabbath back in the days when Ozzy still had most of his gray matter intact. My musical tastes have broadened since then, but they haven't changed.

Anyway, here I was sitting on the couch in the morning, cranking up the volume every time they ran bits of his old concerts, when a knock sounded at the door. I looked out in front and there were no cars in sight. I went to the door and opened it gingerly, peeking out at a man in a suit.

Through my closed storm door I said, "Can I help you?" in a tone that really meant, "This better be good - having interrupted my delicious trip back to my youth and all ..."

The tie-clad gentleman helped himself to opening my storm door and handed me a flyer bearing the image of J.C. in a crown of thorns. "Good morning ma'am. I just wanted to present this invitation to you ~ thank you and have a nice day."

I took the thing and chuckled as I remembered a great little comedy bit where the presenter said that every time someone on the street gives him a handout, it's as if they're saying to him, "Here, you throw it out**." Walking to the garbage recepticle in my kitchen I quickly eyeballed the image and small print inviting me to the Kingdom Hall (Jehovah's Witness) next weekend. Tossing it in the trash, I thought about the irony as I sang out in my best pretend-Ozzy voice while flipping my hair over one shoulder.

I wondered if the man in the tie could hear the lyrics, sense the symbolism and feel the darkness that filled my living room as he stood at the door hoping I'd be an easy target. I wasn't - but not because I resent his beliefs - I just don't think door-to-door is the most appropriate way to sell your religion. Heck, even Avon and Stanley Home Products have given up on that method! But I digress ...

Ozzy (to my thinking) is such a joy to listen to. You would be hard-pressed to fully understand more than three words out of every twenty ~ between his nifty accent, his malfunctioning tongue and his partially spent brain ~ but just like the man at my door remains faithful to his cause, I remain faithful to this aging, poetic prince of darkness*.

In closing - I haven't fallen away from the blog world again. Let's just say that if I could have been around, I would have been around. With spring in the air now, maybe I can finally lose these winter blues and get with the program.

Until again, I leave you with two Oz-man quotes:

"Trouble always seems to find a way to live inside my mind"

"I got rabies shots for biting the head off a bat but that's OK - the bat had to get Ozzy shots"



**Ed and I have established a little nickname for all the junk mail we receive. We have come to call it HYTIO mail, pronounced "high-tee-oh"... as in "here, you throw it out."