Today, the world feels a little quieter, a little dimmer.

We knew this day would come, but we held onto the hope that there would be more time. John Michael "Ozzy" Osbourne—our beloved Prince of Darkness—has taken his final bow, his last encore echoing into eternity. He leaves this world not in shadow, but in light, embarking on his next great journey beyond this life.

The news of his passing came swiftly, and even hours later, the weight of it still hasn't settled. Ozzy Osbourne was more than a rock icon. He was a force. He was joy. He was the soundtrack to so many of our lives.

To the world, he was the Prince of Darkness—born from the thunder of Black Sabbath and carried through the decades by a solo career that broke boundaries and built legends. But those of us who truly saw him, who listened not just to his lyrics but to his heart, know he brought more light than darkness. He made us feel alive. He gave us permission to be wild, to feel deeply, to rage, to laugh, and sometimes, just to be.

Some met him first on MTV's The Osbournes, a chaotic and endearing introduction to his world. Others of us found him earlier—through the pulse of his music, the honesty in his voice, the stories he told through guitar riffs and haunting refrains. I discovered him as a solo artist, and through that, was led back to Black Sabbath and the roots of what would become a lifelong love of heavy metal.

Much has been said about Ozzy's on-stage persona, but behind the wild stories and infamous antics—yes, even the bat—was a deeply human man. Misunderstood by many during the era of moral panic, he was not the villain some made him out to be. He was spiritual, a man who prayed before shows, a member of the Church of England, and someone who carried both his struggles and his faith with unflinching honesty.

Ozzy lived hard—through addiction, personal demons, and ultimately a long battle with Parkinson's, diagnosed in 2005. But through it all, he remained resilient. With Sharon by his side, he found his way back. He found sobriety in 2014 and faced each day with the same grit and tenacity that fueled his music.

Just weeks after his farewell concert, Back to the Beginning, he has left us—at 76 years old. And still, it feels too soon.

Ozzy Osbourne will forever be the Godfather of Heavy Metal, not just for his music, but for the doors he opened, the bands he championed, the stages he shared. Ozzfest wasn’t just a festival—it was a movement. And Ozzy never stopped writing, never stopped giving, never stopped creating.

I’ll miss him—his voice, his presence, his rawness, and his sense of humor. But most of all, I’ll miss what he made me feel: that it's okay to be different, to be bold, to be broken, and to be brilliant all at once.

Wherever you are now, Ozzy—I hope it's a place without pain, without fear. A place where the music never stops.

Long live the Prince of Darkness. Rest easy, Ozzy. You were, and always will be, one of a kind.

Missing My Friend.

I don’t have many words right now, but I wanted to share with my community that a dear friend, Gayle Noble, has taken her final step beyond this life and - if you believe as I do - begun her next journey among the stars.

Gayle was the embodiment of strength, intelligence, and originality. She began her remarkable career as a radio station engineer, later becoming one of the early pioneers in the computer engineering world - paving the way for many in what was, and often still is, a male-dominated industry. She didn’t just break barriers; she vocally redefined them.

What do I remember most? Honestly - it was the way she carried herself. With her signature long ponytails wrapped in cloth lizards or her whimsical, feathered hats, she turned heads and challenged assumptions. But if you took the time to truly see her, you were welcomed into a circle of profound kindness and, as her daughter so perfectly described, aggressive generosity.

Gayle made a habit of stopping by my IT team with treats from Costco - never empty-handed, always full-hearted. I used to tease her, saying she was trying to fatten me up, but truthfully, it was just her way of showing love - always giving, always present.

She was an engineer, a writer, a music lover, and someone who profoundly influenced how I approach my work, my relationships, and how I choose to meet people - with openness, empathy, and care, leaving judgment behind.

She will be deeply missed. But I take comfort in imagining her now - unbound, soaring through the cosmos, just as wild, free, and extraordinary as she was here with us.

Rest well, Gayle. You were a gift.

Happy International Women's Day

Let's be honest—this shouldn’t be a one-day celebration. Just as Pride and Black History shouldn’t be confined to a single month, recognizing and uplifting women should be part of our everyday mindset.

At a time when DEI initiatives face resistance from our own federal government, I remain committed to ensuring that diversity, equity, and inclusion are not just checkboxes, but ingrained in how we hire, promote, and support qualified talent—on autopilot.

I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again: we do not have enough women in IT, Science, Engineering, or leadership roles. And that needs to change. Throughout my career, I’ve had the privilege of working for incredible women—leaders who have challenged me, elevated my game, and made me a better leader, listener, and technologist.

Today, let’s honor the women who are making an impact—whether in the workplace, mentoring the next generation, or supporting their families. Their contributions deserve more than a day, a week, or a month of recognition. This is a year-round commitment.

I would not be the leader I am today without the strong women in my life.