The Ghost of Bob Marley

Yesterday I went for a long meandering run on the lakefront.  It was alive with activity. Suddenly, somehow, the world had conspired to become BARBECUE LAND.  Folks were unpacking grills, tents, lawn chairs and more charcoal briquettes than there are stars in the sky.

Everyone getting ready for a big day ahead of charred burgers, hot dogs and chicken wings - and all leading up to the grand fireworks spectacle to be conducted out over the lake at sundown.

So I huffed and puffed my way through the hordes.  

Towards the end of my trek, on a lone patch of territory, a deep, musical voice called out behind me: "ONE LOVE coming through!"  I glanced back and there was a friendly looking, dread-locked Rastafarian dude on his bike. He passed me with a smile.  A moment later, another just as musical voice called out: "One HEART coming through!"  It was another dreaded, friendly Rastafarian - another bike, another smile.  

Of course, I also know the song.  

As they pedaled out ahead of me, I sang out in my somewhat musical voice: "LET'S GET TOGETHER AND FEEL ALL RIGHT!"