I go to the public library to study, but lately I've instead been reading Ozzy Osbourne's memoir "I Am Ozzy" off the shelves (I know, wtf?). It's perhaps a bit of a respite from the other stuff I've been reading . . .

I like Ozzy Osbourne and Black Sabbath, but I can't say I'm a huge fan of either. I have both in my collection, but hardly extensive collections.

I was introduced to Ozzy Osbourne before Black Sabbath. In sixth grade, our music teacher allowed on one day per week for a student to bring in music from his or her music collection to introduce to the class.

Even though she herself was a big fat opera singer wannabe, I think this was also her way of keeping in touch with what kids were listening to. In retrospect, that, to me, along with my respect for public school teachers, is awesome. She did not get a lot of respect from us as students, but in retrospect, she was awesome.

Anyway, one day a classmate brought in Ozzy Osbourne's first solo album after he was fired from Black Sabbath, "Blizzard of Ozz", and Randy Rhoads' guitar playing on I Don't Know fucking blew me away.

It was the first shredding I ever heard. The term didn't even exist yet I shouldn't wonder, and it was still more or less a school year before I was exposed to Eddie Van Halen, who arguably invented shredding, or at least popularized it and redefined virtuosic lead guitar solos away from their blues roots.

I bought that LP as well as its follow-up "Diary of a Madman", but lost interest after Randy heart-breakingly died. Sounds like I was more of a Randy Rhoads fan, and maybe so. Ozzy never attracted me as a singer, per se, but had other qualities I liked from radio interviews, such as being passionate, anti-establishment and misunderstood by the mainstream.

This memoir should be a lot funnier than it is, considering Ozzy's manic, ironic life. I'm sure the story as he told it would be hilarious, and it's too bad the co-writer wasn't someone who could translate the ridiculousness of the raw material Ozzy went through. I really do wish this blog were funnier. What the fuck happened to my sense of humor?

But it's still a good read to me, just because it's the whole rock 'n' roll thing that is a part of my bedrock. Things you obsess about during childhood and adolescence have a way of staying with you for the rest of your life in a way that other things don't. And when rock music is part of your history, reading stuff like this is like reading . . . history. Except interesting.