The year was 1981, some of our readers will be wondering if
we still had dinosaurs but I can assure you we did not. However, there were no
computers, cell phones and definitely no I-pods. My bedroom walls had a Led
Zeppelin poster, Z-92 stickers and a centerfold cutout of Ozzy on them , on the
floor next to my stereo was a stack of albums. At that time, The Blizzard of Ozz
album was on the end of the stack. I remember Z-92 advertising that Ozzy was
going to be in town and I began saving money for a ticket. The concert was set
for May 28th 1981 at the Omaha music hall that held a whopping 2500
people. The day of the concert was like any other day in late May in the O.
Ninety degrees and about four hundred percent humidity. I didn’t wear shorts in
those days and my attire consisted of my suede shoes, my high hip Levis, held
up with a dark brown belt, and my sleeveless Ozzy t-shirt that exposed my
enormous biceps (hehe). Due to the youth of some of our readers, I won’t
discuss my state of consciousness for that particular day. Waiting in line
seemed to take forever and when the doors flew open I raced to the front of the
Music Hall. I couldn’t believe it, I got front row. At this point my whole body
was sweating profusely from excitement and the heat. We made it through the
first band, Motorhead, and I could hardly contain myself waiting for the main
event. Finally, the lights went out and the auditorium went silent. A few
minutes went by and in pitch darkness, Randy Rhodes’ intro to Crazy Train
rocked the hall and the crowd exploded. As the lights and pyrotechnics lit up
and nearly singed my eyebrows, Ozzy appeared on stage it hit me that this was
going to be the most incredible day of my entire life. The song order was Crazy
Train, followed by Mr. Crowley and then a switch to Paranoid and some other old
Sabbath song. Very quickly I noticed that something just didn’t seem right. The
fifth song was I Don’t Know and half way through the song Ozzy went to the
microphone and apologized that he was sick and walked off stage. He barely made
it off the stage and the lights came on, the crowd stood in utter disbelief at
what just happened and were hoping it was some kind of joke or part of the act.
After a few moments, the roadies began to pull equipment off the stage and I had
to duck as debris started flying toward the stage. Unbelievable, how could
anything so perfect end up so depressing.
As I sat down to
write this blog about fishing conditions this fall, I couldn’t help but put it
in the same category as my Ozzy concert experience. I still remember the
anticipation of that concert, from the first day I bought the tickets it seemed
every night I had to check my secret hiding place to make sure the tickets were
still there. This fall seemed like a rerun of that time constantly checking the
water temps and flows with such great anticipation of a return to our beautiful
virginesque waters. And yes I know that is not a real word and probably should
not be used while talking about Pueblos’ river, but I’m just saying. With the
weather changes we have had this fall, the reservoir turnover seems to be like
an upright agitating washing machine constantly kicking its endless debris into
the outflow gates. We have had moments on the river this fall that took me back
to that opening riff where I felt like this is going to be the greatest day of
my life and then quickly followed by total disbelief. One day I make the walk
back to my car with music dancing in my brain and the next I’m ready to scream.
Now I know Ozzy went on from that evening and made quite a career for himself.
For me, I guess my musical desires changed and never really had the desire to
see another one of his concerts. If I were a betting man I would put my money
on November being a lineup of one incredible concert after another, or we can
hope.
The weather shows a
drop in temps this week and hopefully the turnover completes itself. I know I
like to gripe a little about the clarity but even with dirty water, beautiful
music can be played in your head. The pics are from the last few evenings on
the river and as you can see, the fish are looking incredible. One of the things
about working in the shop over the years is taking “fish measurements“with a
grain of salt. The old joke about why women are shortsighted would fit in
perfectly here, so when my friend Tino called and told me he landed a 22incher
on Saturday, I was like sure you did, and then he showed me the pic. Bravo
Tino!!!! Some great fish, some frustrating days and some
days that just make
you glad you are alive. As always Connell, Cat, Winston, the late Randy Rhodes
and the Drift fly Shop want to thank you for reading….
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