Once again, I’ll say it.
Fuck Ozzy Osbourne.
It’s tough for me to say it, but for the past decade, I’ve watched someone that I’ve looked up to for a long time essentially go from being one of the founders to the greatest band of all time to being nothing more than corporate shill for sale to the highest bidder.
Why do I say this? Here’s a little story…
The other day while browsing a major metal website Blabbermouth, I happened upon the news that Ozzy was going to be doing a meet and greet at Nordstrom in Northern Virginia.
I told some of my friends about it and since it was my friend’s birthday, we figured that we’d make the trek down there and meet the voice behind Black Sabbath and have a great time.
Or so we thought.
I had read that in order to meet Ozzy, you had to purchase a piece of clothing from the Affliction clothing line. I checked the price of shirts and figured that it wasn’t too bad a price to pay to meet Mr. Osbourne.
We arrived at the Tysons Corner Center elated that we would get our pictures taken and an autograph. Nothing was going to deter us from this. It was our sole mission for today.
When we walked through the front door of the store, a kind young lady gave us a sheet with how to make your purchase and go about meeting Ozzy.
The instructions were this (taken directly from the sheet…)
How to meet Ozzy:
– Make your Affliction purchase in the store.
– Proceed to stand in line.
– As soon as Ozzy arrives, we will begin checking customers in.
– Present your receipt to our check-in desk and receive and an Affliction bracelet.
– Only those who purchase an Affliction item, will receive a bracelet and be allowed to stand in line.
– Please no guests in line.
– Please know, you are only allowed one photograph per Affliction clothing purchase.
– Due to the popularity of the Ozzy, we cannot guarantee that you will be able to meet with him in person.
– Meet with Ozzy while time permits.
Okay, easy enough.
That’s until we saw the Affliction clothing line.
That shirt that I have pictured above, take a guess how much that motherfucker cost?
Seventy eight American dollars.
No, I am not kidding at all. It cost that much money for a shitty looking, flimsy shirt that some art school dork wouldn’t be caught dead in.
You know, no big deal if you’re rolling in the dough but if I’m not. I can’t even pay my bills on time because I’m a total schlep.
My friends and I decide to see if we can weasel our way in, but no dice. They had the entire scene on lock down. We decided to sit down and review our options when one of the hired security guards came over and started giving us the typical hired security guard line of questioning.
“Are you getting in line? If you’re not, then…”
I cut him off and said “then get out?”
That opened a floodgate because after I muttered that, the security guard was soon joined by a few of his colleagues and it felt like we weren’t welcome there. I, of course, decided to make my grievances be known while we were leaving.
After that we decided to walk around the mall and get some food while still going over what we can do. My friend’s girlfriend decided that they were going to buy a shirt, meet Ozzy and then return it. Easier said than done. I wasn’t present, but from what I gathered they had purchased the shirt and while he was in line to meet Ozzy, one of the people that work for Affliction who probably likes professional wrestling and is glad to see American Gladiators back on the air quickly questioned her and then pulled my friend out of line. He left willingly but felt cheated as did the rest of us.
We had driven about an hour and a half to meet Ozzy with only the expectation of getting a photo and a story to tell people but instead we were treated like complete and utter tools with having to make a purchase that was far beyond our means in order to meet a man that I’ve held in regard for so long.
Of course, we weren’t the only ones that felt that way. There was a long streak of dissent from people who shared our disbelief that we were treated like that. It was nothing more than a sales ploy by both Nordstrom and Affliction to prey on people’s thinking that it would be easy to meet a celebrity. It seems as if the lovable Ozzy that people expect from his television show has been replaced by a sap controlled by a opportunist cunt that hold his strings and checks his bank account. But then again, this is the modern world where anyone will sell out in a heartbeat in order to benefit off the mindless ways of the masses.
From now on, I’m going to look at Black Sabbath (who are one on my favorite bands) and everything that Ozzy has done in his solo career in a nostalgic light because his soul died a long time ago with signing on the dotted line to become another fucking corporate puppet. His relevancy has been diminished and he should just finally fucking retire and fade away.
Thanks for the memories, Ozzy.
A Former Fan.