Instant Karma - Bob Marley Alive And Well

Written By: Renee Anderson

The first and only time I saw Bob Marley just happened to be in 2006. Not only was he quite alive, but young to boot. Every day I would pass one large, hilly park on my way to and from work. Every day I would glance over and see random park goings on. Little black pugs running around while their owners watched in fascination as though they had never seen their dogs play before. A variety of muttering homeless, park goers reading their books or taking their naps.

On my way home one day I turned the corner that put me about 3 blocks down from the park. There, on the sidewalk, were three pairs of bare feet coming at me. All I could think was how unsanitary it must be. I looked up and saw attached to these feet were three kids about my age, donned in their best hippie costumes. I glanced back as they passed, but it didn’t faze me too much, considering the kinds of things I see in this neighborhood on a daily basis.

As I traversed down the sidewalk at an impossibly slow pace, the sounds of a screaming crowd grew in my ears. The crowd sounded loud but calm at the same time. Something must be going on at the park, I assumed. The flowing sounds of organ rhythm, drums and guitar swirled around my head and seemed to make my ears float above me. Words soon accompanied the music:

"I-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i – I’m willing and able
So I throw my cards on your
table"

A concert, a band doing a Marley cover, or so I thought. The nearer I drew to the park, the more intense the sound grew. A free park concert seemed strange, especially for a band that attracted so many people. Once I reached the park the smell of ganja and clouds of smoke swirled with the joyful screams, clapping hands and dancing feet. Thousands of people crammed by the stage, while the crowd thinned farther back, with many small groups sitting on the grass, smoking joints. I wondered why the cops weren’t around. Everyone seemed to be donned in their best 70’s gear, like the three I had seen before.

Over the heads of thousands I saw him, up on stage with his Wailers. His red button up shirt and bell bottoms stood out amongst the stage, and his long dreadlocks bounced with the rhythm as his feet wouldn’t stop moving. My jaw dropped further with every closer step I took toward the stage. It obviously had to be a cover band. I made my way through the dancing and jumping audience as they sung along as loud as they could, knowing that only at a concert could you truly sing your heart out without the burden of self-consciousness. At closer inspection of his closed eyes and the passion of his voice I knew it was him. Of course this was still unacceptable.

"Who is this band?" I asked of some people to my right. They only laughed.

"What’s going on? Who is this guy?" I asked of another.

"You never heard of Bob Marley?" He asked me.

He reeked of another era. I looked down lower on the stage and saw the banner: One Love Benefit Concert: 1976. All I could conclude was that either someone slipped me some very powerful drugs, or I was experiencing something I would never be able to explain.

I looked around and saw only old car models drive down the road I had just been walking next to. No one held a cell phone, no one dressed in any modern clothes. I looked around in confusion but was pulled to the stage nonetheless, as the sun went down with Bob Marley and he told us all that everything’s gonna be all right. I wanted to stay forever. But when the sun disappeared the year faded with it. In an instant it was all gone, and I stood quite alone in the middle of the park, smelling of sweat and marijuana. The music faded last, and I began to walk away as sirens, dogs barking, and general nighttime blur seeped into my ears. The first person I saw again was a homeless man that stood across the street from the park. He held up a sign that read; There’s a natural mystic flowing through the air. If you listen carefully now, you will hear.