In 1981, Ozzy was the first concert I ever attended. I would say that I was too young to appreciate seeing Randy Rhoads perform, but there are/were plenty of 15 year olds with the wherewithal to appreciate a guitar master. Nope. Just straight-up doofus.
What I really hate is that because I wasn’t aware of what I was witnessing, I have no memory of Randy playing mere feet in front of me. I remember Ozzy being sweaty and shirtless, with that blue monster tattoo on his shoulder. I remember his mascara and pudginess. But not the performance of one of the best guitarists ever. Ugh.
I wrote this about a year ago when the “first concert” meme was going around:
I was 15, drove 37 miles each way in my ‘73 Pontiac Catalina (a living room on wheels handed down from my grandparents) with my little brother, had fourth-row seats, and didn’t know what that funny smell during the concert was.
At the time I was surprised that Ozzy never referenced that it was April Fool’s Day. Pretty silly now, knowing that he didn’t know what solar system he was in back then.
I followed through on my promise to call my mother after the concert. It was hard to hear her through the ringing in my ears, but I bet she was relieved that we hadn’t been murdered in the many nasty ways that she must have imagined.
And finally, I was too much of a doofus to know that I was witnessing the great Randy Rhoads playing live and in person mere feet in front of me.
This guy is disturbingly excited about a train that didn’t even go into a tunnel.
Wait till he discovers girls.