Marley in a can
JUL 27, 2013 | BY YUKON DAMOV
A white kid walks down a street in Scarborough wearing Bob Marley on his t-shirt.
A friend ends a sentimental text with "One love."
A record store clerk puts on Catch a Fire and a customer feels compelled to recite his rave review.
On a shelf in a convenience store off of University Avenue's hospital corridor sits Marley's Mellow Mood. What's the appeal?
It had me with the alliteration, but I digress.
He had a big smile and was coolly photogenic.
He played soccer in barefeet—something kids in Brazil love to do, says the image in my head. "Proponents of barefoot running argue that our bodies evolved for shoeless locomotion," says the Smithsonian.
The article also mentions that he died young.
He'll be remembered for those things and for being the Jamaican ambassador to North America and for being reggae's ambassador to the world and for being chill and for loving many women and for smoking weed and for his deep, perhaps posthumous attachment to the Jamaican flag.
And for that stupid elixir in a can.
And, best of all, for making music like this:
- Subtitle: Marley the brand