Marley, White People, Reggae and Weed
What do all of the above have in common? I am not sure but they went together last Saturday at a Ziggy Marley concert I attended with my wife. Before we were even through the doors, the sweet smell of ganja assailed our nostrils. Hmmm…ganja and reggae. Weed at a reggae concert is like bibles in church.
The crowd was a decent mix of young and not-so-young. Us blacks were actually the minority. When Ziggy took the stage, the power of music transcended every boundary and everyone was ‘feeling it’. Because of the way the seats were set up, I earlier assured my wife that it would be a sit-down affair. I had to eat my words as the concert-goers behind us decided early that they weren’t going to be using their seats. They stood, chanted and dance to every single song! The older white couple in front of me were also grooving as though they were born Jamaicans and I couldn’t help but smile when the husband yelled “Rastafari!” with upraised fist. Half way through the concert, just about everyone was on their feet.
When Ziggy covered a few of his dad’s songs, the crowd roared its appreciation. Those in front of the stage rocked to the pulsating beat. Who said white people had no rhythm? They lied. These white people, some clad in full Bob Marley and Rasta colors, swayed and jumped like they were Jamaicans. I was proud! Then he sang a song that was a thinly veiled marijuana anthem, urging the crowd to light it up. They didn’t need to be told twice, a pall of smoke wafted overhead.
At the end of the night, my wife and I had the munchies, go figure! We ended up consuming a pizza between us. Ziggy did his dad proud! I never got a chance to see Bob but I did feel that much closer to the great one on Saturday. His stage antics were reminiscent of his dad as he used every inch of his allotted stage space.