Ozzy's Guitarist

The sparsity (sparse + scarcity) of posts of late should indicate to the careful reader that Hopper is battling either:

A) Illness

B) Time

C) An Energy Deficit

D) A Plethora of Pseudo-Imaginary Boogeymen

In this current case, it is A and C.  However, my mind always works, though it does not always get my butt into the writing chair at the writing desk in the basement.  That being said, I am back, I think, and should resume normal blogging activities here at the Recovering Hopper.

I titled this post “Ozzy’s Guitarist” because during one of the past couple of bleary, sweaty, coughing nights I had an awesome dream where, well, you kinda know where I’m going to go with this.  It was awesome!  Always a blessing to have a dream of pure joy, confidence, and fun.  I was the newest member of a band fronted by a pre-mumbling and addled Ozzy Osborne.  I knew the songs and the riffs front to back and back to front, I could play them in my sleep.  I got along well with the other guys in the band.  We were hanging in hotel rooms on tour, and I fit right in.  We laughed, joked, partied (nothing too unseemly in this dream) and had a blast.  When I woke, I wished I could go back to Nod to resume the dream lifestyle of an Ozzy Osborne guitarist.

But such things are merely innocuous interlude in life. 

For those keeping track at home, I was a huge Black Sabbath fan in high school.  Not so much Ozzy as a solo artist, though I did own Blizzard of Ozz and No More Tears at various points in my life.  Loved a few songs, such as

Revelation Mother Earth

No Bone Movies

Steal Away the Night

I Don’t Know

Flying High Again (ed. Never figured out what this one’s about!)

Lightning Strikes (ed. Holy Eighties!)

No More Tears

Mr. Tinkertrain

Oh well.  Think I’ll toss Master of Reality in the old CD player …