Trust Me, I'm Dr Ozzy
Page 20
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Here in Denmark, people believe you can get drunk by bathing your feet in tub of vodka, as the skin absorbs the booze in the same way as the lining of your stomach. Is this true?
Henrick, Copenhagen
Yes and no. I tried it once, but got bored after a few minutes and started drinking from the tub. The next morning, I wasn’t sure if it was my feet or my mouth that had given me the hangover.
III: PYSCHADELICS
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I’ve been taking a lot of LSD recently, mostly because the fake reality is better than my bummer of a real life. Have you ever felt the same way?
Anonymous, USA
Here’s the deal, no bullshit: if you keep taking the LSD, your “fake reality” will soon become a lot fucking worse than real life, no matter how bad your real life is. In my experience, LSD is a great time until it ain’t—and when that happens, it’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. One minute you’re running down Miami Beach with a foam finger on your head; the next you’re sticking a gun in your best friend’s face. The worst thing is when you want the trip to stop, but you’ve still got another eight hours to go. I still get the after-effects of LSD to this day: I call them my “wobblers.” In a flash, every tiny little problem freaks me out and becomes the end of the world. Seriously, man, be very careful. If you keep taking that shit, it’s gonna bite you on the balls.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I’ve heard people say LSD can cure depression. What’s your expert medical opinion on this?
Brian, Seattle
As I’ve said before, I wouldn’t recommend that anyone take acid. On the other hand, it does open your mind to certain things. For example, I once walked into a field in Staffordshire when I was as high on LSD and ended up having a long conversation with a cow. After a while, the cow turned to the cow next to it and said, “FUCK me—that bloke can talk.”
OZZY’S AMAZING MEDICAL MISCELLANY
Turn On, Tune In… Freak OUT
As crazy as it sounds, LSD is making a comeback as a possible treatment for everything from “cluster headaches” to post-combat stress. After a 40-year ban on government-funded research, the US Food and Drug Administration is allowing trials again. LSD is still illegal and dangerous, though, so it ain’t a good idea to attempt any experiments of your own.
Ask any major acid-head about “Bicycle Day” and he’ll know exactly what you’re talking about—it was the afternoon in 1943 when the Swiss chemist Albert Hofmann mistakenly took 100 times the “threshold dose” of LSD and then tried to ride home from his lab on a bicycle. Needless to say, the journey took a long time and involved visiting several other universes. Before then, no-one knew how high you could get from LSD (which is made from lysergic acid, found in certain kinds of fungi).
No matter how much more research they do into LSD, it ain’t likely to become a new blockbuster drug any time soon, ’cos it was discovered such a long time ago. That means all the chemical formulas behind it are now “in the public domain” and aren’t gonna make anyone rich.
Other common psychedelic drugs include peyote (a small, spineless cactus which contains mescaline), psilocybin (found in certain kinds of “magic” mushrooms) and PCP—which was used as an anaesthetic until surgeons realised it gave their patients head-trips that were worse than their injuries. Illegal PCP later became known as “angel dust.”
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
After spending the late sixties and the seventies in a psychedelic fog, I’ve found that even now, after thirty years of abstinence, my sight hasn’t recovered. Everything moves or breathes—the walls, the floors, people’s faces—and I can wake up in the night with full-on “acid vision.” Do you suffer from this? If so, what can I do about it?
Phil, Aberystwyth
They used to tell you that LSD never leaves your system for the rest of your life, although I think that’s been disproven now. What might be happening is that something’s triggering a memory of a bad trip—like when you think about spicy food and your mouth starts to water. But it doesn’t sound very fucking normal, still having “acid vision” after 30 years. You should go and get an MRI, because you never know, it might not even have anything to do with the crazy shit you took when you were a younger man.
IV: EVERYTHING ELSE
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Was Charlie Sheen really “winning” when he was fired from Two and a Half Men? Or is it impossible to lead such a wild existence without some kind of tragic conclusion?
Ted, Yorkshire
There are three things I don’t like talking about these days: religion, politics, and Charlie Sheen. I’ll say this, though: if Charlie Sheen had found a cure for cancer, the guy wouldn’t have got as much press as he did when he was doing his Winning Warlock thing—which probably says more about our society than it does him. Also, as a general rule, it ain’t ever a good idea to make a big announcement about how you’re suddenly clean and sober, ’cos chances are, you’ll fall off the wagon at some point—and I guarantee, there’ll be a camera there, waiting for you. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt, the baseball cap, the mug and spoon set, and every other souvenir you can think of.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I am a 47-year-old woman who’s indulged in various medicinal herbs and chemicals for most of my life. Now I’d like to stop, but how do I fight the urge to self-medicate?
Lucille, New York
It ain’t easy. When I finally admitted that I had a problem with booze, my mum said to me, “Well why don’t you just stop bloody drinking then?” But the truth is, very few people can do that. Fortunately, there’s a lot of help out there now—which wasn’t the case in my day. The fact you understand that you’re self-medicating is a good thing, ’cos it means you ain’t under any illusions, although it sounds to me like you haven’t come to terms with the fact you might be an addict yet. The next stage is to find a good therapist, or a local AA meeting. That’s how I started. Having said that, the most important thing for me was changing my social circle. I just don’t hang out with practicing drug addicts or alcoholics any more. When you do that, you finally realize what a small minority of people have a case of beer and an eight-ball of cocaine for breakfast.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I’m not a big druggie, but I have a big birthday celebration coming up and I want to enjoy myself. Obviously I don’t want to cause any permanent damage—or end up in hospital—so what combination of magic plants, powders, pills, and other mind-altering chemicals would you recommend for a really kick-ass time?
“David,” New York
My favourite combination of drugs was pretty specific: anything and anything—and as much of it as I could get my hands on it. That pretty much guaranteed a kick-ass time… until I woke up in prison, or in the ER, or in the middle of a twelve-lane freeway. I wish I could tell you the magic formula that’ll keep you out of trouble, but I never found it. Whenever I got loaded, my self-destruct circuit activated, and I ended up trying to strangle my wife, or shoot my cats, or some other fucked-up shit. My advice? Stay clean, man.
Dr. Ozzy’s Trivia Quiz: High Expectations
Find the answers—and tote up your score— here
1. How can you get high from a Colorado River toad (Bufo alvarius)?
a) By sucking on it
b) By milking it, drying the venom, and smoking it
c) By blending it and drinking the liquid
2. When a British prison inmate grew a marijuana plant in his cell, what did the wardens think it was?
a) A tomato plant
b) A Christmas tree
c) A plastic ornament
3. What was Diane Linkletter high on when she jumped out of a window to her death in 1969?
a) LSD
b) Peyote
c) Magic mushrooms
4. When cops raided an (alleged) meth dealer’s house in Mexico City, how much cash did they find hidden in the walls?
a) $205 million
/> b) $25 million
c) $2 billion
5. What was Operation Midnight Climax?
a) A project to create a female instant-orgasm pill
b) The secret nickname for Viagra drug trials
c) A CIA-run brothel where the punters were spiked with LSD
Croaking It
12
Getting Ready for the Great Moshpit in the Sky
Knowing me, I won’t leave this earth peacefully. I’ll be abducted by killer turds from outer space, eaten by a giant cockroach, or crushed by a falling chunk of Halley’s Comet. No matter what happens, though, one thing’s for sure: my time will run out. When it comes to Death, not even the Prince of Darkness gets any special favours.
It used to bother me that I wouldn’t last forever, but it doesn’t any more. Don’t get me wrong: I ain’t planning to kick the bucket any time soon. But we’re already living in an overloaded world, and it’s only gonna get worse: a stray asteroid will land in the ocean, some whacked-out dictator will blow up the moon, or the next ice age will arrive. Who wants eternal life only to see all that bullshit happening? Fuck that, man: let the great-great-grandkids handle it. In the meantime, my philosophy is to make as much of what you’ve got, for as long as humanly possible. So when people write to Dr. Ozzy about getting old, that’s what I tell ’em: accept the inevitable, but don’t stop.
Never stop.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Is it too morbid to plan your own funeral? Or is it a thoughtful gift for your surviving relatives, like when Peter Sellers asked for Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” to be played during the service? (His final joke—everyone knew he despised the song.)
Macy, Kent
I honestly don’t care what music they play at my funeral—they can put on a medley of Justin Bieber, Susan Boyle, and “We Are the Diddymen” if it makes ’em happy—but I do want to make sure it’s a celebration, not a mope-fest. I’d also like some pranks: maybe the sound of knocking inside the coffin; or a video of me asking my doctor for a second opinion on his diagnosis of “death.” And obviously there’ll be no harping on the bad times, like, “Oh, he was terrible boozer, old Ozzy, and I’ll never forget when he beat up the cat.” So to answer your question: yes, I do think a bit of planning is the right thing to do for the family you leave behind. Also, it’s always worth remembering that a lot of people on this earth see nothing but misery their whole lives. So by any measure, most of us in the western hemisphere—especially rockers like me—are very lucky. That’s why I don’t want my funeral to be sad. I want it to be a time to say “thanks.”
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I’ve reached the age when I need a walker. I can’t begin to describe to you how depressing this is. Given that you’re an elder statesman of rock who still manages to be cool, can you tell me how to pull off this anti-fashion accessory? (Go-faster stripes, perhaps?)
Liv, Exeter
What do you mean, “reached the age”? They don’t go, “Oh, Happy 83rd Birthday, here’s a walker.” My gran lived to 99 without needing any help to get around. So you’ve obviously got a specific problem, in which case, you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do, man. Paint the thing black and put a skull and crossbones on the front if it makes you feel better. Otherwise, bear in mind that Johnny Cash used a wheelchair when he got old—and even then, he was still the coolest man on the planet.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
If you could take a test that would tell you if you’re going to get Alzheimer’s in the future, would you do it?
Cherry, Boston
Sharon and I had one of those tests when we got our “genomes sequenced” (see chapter 7 for more details) and when the results were ready, we had to make that decision for real. It was a very big deal for my wife, ’cos her dad got Alzheimer’s, and it was horrific. Believe me, having seen what happened to him, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst fucking enemy. In his heyday, my father-in-law was one of the scariest people I’d ever met, but at the end of his life he’d been reduced to a child. Having said that, my view is that if you know about something in advance, you can do a lot to slow it down—and you might even have a chance of curing it, especially as new treatments come out over the years. Sharon feels the same way. Luckily for us, nothing in our genes suggest we’re any more likely to get Alzheimer’s than any other person.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I’m approaching my 85th birthday and have now been to more friends’ funerals than I care to remember. Is it better to have an early send-off, or be the last man standing?
Dennis, Shewsbury
Unless you put a gun to head on your 65th birthday, it ain’t exactly a choice you get to make, is it? Having said that, the thought of sticking around for too long seems like the worse option to me. I know a woman whose friends all died years ago, then her husband died, so she ended up living on her own… and then to top it off she got dementia. That ain’t a life by anyone’s definition. My own mum didn’t have an easy time, either—right at the end of her life she was robbed blind by two guys who knocked on her door and told her they were from the electricity board. I’ve already told my wife: if it gets to the bitter end and there’s an off-switch you can press, don’t hesitate for one second.
DR. OZZY’S AMAZING MEDICAL MISCELLANY
Most Unlikely Ways to Die*
Hit on the head by a coconut. Supposedly this kills 150 people every year around the world—coconuts drop from as high as 25 metres with a force of 1,000 kgs—making the odds 250 million to one. They say that being killed by a coconut is more likely than being killed by a shark. I’d still rather see a coconut above me than a fin next to me in the water.
Standing too close to an exploding toilet. Self-explanatory, this one—and not exactly what you’d want anyone writing on your death certificate. It does happen, though. Estimated odds: 340 million to one.
Legally executed. Obviously this depends which country you’re in—the odds would be zero in Britain, ’cos there’s no death penalty—but in America they’re 97,000 to one. Which makes it a more popular way to croak than if you were…
Bitten by a dog. This one’s a bit of a worry, given that I’ve got 17 of the fucking things. Luckily most of ’em are the size of tea cups. Odds: 121,000 to one.
Eaten by a cannibal. How the fuck anyone calculated this statistic is beyond me, but the chances of ending up as someone’s lunch allegedly works out at 25 billion to one. In terms of things to worry about, it’s up there with being hit by an asteroid (7.5 billion to one) and being trapped in a freezer (360 million to one).
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Suddenly, at the age of 43, I’ve found myself beginning to stutter. I’m mortified. Is this just a fact of getting older, or something more serious? Is it going to get worse? Please help, Dr. Ozzy.
Ellen, Birmingham
It might be serious, or it might not be, but you should go and see a neurologist, just in case. I also started to jumble my words up as I got older—although stutters run in my family. It usually happens when I’m excited or frustrated. I used to treat it with a nip of booze every now and again, which helped, until I became a raging alcoholic. By the time people saw me on The Osbournes, they couldn’t understand a word I was saying. Then I watched the show myself, and I couldn’t understand a word I was saying, either. You’ve just got to slow down. When I stopped speaking so fast, I stopped stuttering as much. I try to think of the end of a sentence now before I start it. And although I never went to a speech therapist for stuttering, I’m told that can help a lot. Why not try it?
Dear Dr. Ozzy,
I’m bald, fat and married, and becoming increasingly depressed by the thought that I’ll never enjoy my wild days of youthful debauchery ever again. As someone who’s given up drinking and philandering, how do you come to terms with getting old?
Mike, New Jersey
Whatever you do, don’t just sit there like a lump, waiting for the Grim Reaper to arrive. Find something you enjoy doing, maybe some kind of exerci
se—not bonking the next-door neighbour’s wife—and let off your pent-up frustration through that. Look at me: I’m 62 years old, I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, and I don’t run around with groupies any more, but at the moment I’m doing a two-and-a-half-hour rock ’n’ roll show in a different city every night, and—in my head at least—I feel like I’m 21 years old. Don’t give up, man. Seriously. Accept the things you can’t change and get on with your life.
DR. OZZY’S AMAZING MEDICAL MISCELLANY
Most Likely Ways to Die*
A mind-blowing 59 million people (roughly) die every year on Planet Earth, with the most popular reason being a dodgy ticker. In fact, heart disease accounts for 12.2 per cent of all deaths throughout the world, rich and poor.
Strokes give heart attacks a good run for their money on the Grim Reaper’s Hit List, coming in at No. 2 and killing 5.7 million people a year—9.7 per cent of all deaths.