I was about 19 or 20 at the time and I was giving my mother a ride somewhere . . . . in the tape deck of my truck was Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid”. It was cued up for “Planet Caravan” (this is a very mellow and gypsy-ish song – probably the least “metal” of all their songs) and I let it play at a respectable and pleasant level.
My mom, who was always scornful of all my heavy metal, punk, and everything else at the time, not knowing what it was that she was hearing, said, “This is nice. I like this music. What is it?”
“It’s BLACK SABBATH, Mom! That’s OZZY OSBOURNE singing! You just admitted you liked Ozzy and Black Sabbath!”
She tried to recover and only made things worse . . .
“But I didn’t know who it was. I would not have liked it if I knew.”
“TOO LATE!!! You already said you liked it!” I rolled down the window of my truck and screamed out, “My mom loves Ozzy Osbourne and Black Sabbath mwaahahahahaha!!!”
She did not think it was nearly as hilarious as I did.
That’s awesome! Nice try on the back peddle too.
I grew up with the parent’s vinyl and 8-track collections until I was about 12.
The parents had decent taste. I remember Elvis, Steppenwolf (my mom’s), Bobby Daren, Neil Sedaka, Brenda Lee, Jerry Lee Lewis, Chuck Berry, The Supremes, Donna Summer, The Jackson 5, the Grease double LP, various artists compilations, etc.
At 14, I would hear one of my classmates play DKs in my English class. I never looked back.