"There's a reason I wasn't on that helicopter."

I'm not one for heroes and idols, but, Christ, this man meant more to me than most people I've actually met. He not only helped shape a genre, but he grabbed it and made it his own. He said many times, modestly, that he "wasn't a singer" but rather "an entertainer". Ozzy... you were a singer, and a fucking legendary one at that. Whatever this man lacked in the eyes (or ears) of popular opinion he made up for with his own unique timbre, and sheer, unmatched vocal power.

Andy Johnson, a childhood friend of mine, sitting behind me on a school bus, handed me his headphones and said "listen to this". I hesitantly put them on and listened. It was Crazy Train. I was hooked. Can't tell y'all how many times his songs played throughout my house over the decades since. I still remember when my mother bought me my first car; I bought duplicates of every Ozzy CD to keep in the middle console for wherever I went.

Ozzy died on my 34th birthday, which is such a strange thing for me to read after I've typed it out. Sometimes we go through long periods of time forgetting we're all getting older. Everything is constantly changing. Nothing lasts forever. But I will say Ozzy's voice and legacy will continue to add color and joviality to my own life, and I hope it does the same for millions of others for as long as possible. You'll be missed, Ozzy, but also deeply, deeply cherished. Thank you for not becoming a Birmingham plumber. Much love.