Little anecdote:
Back in the mid-2000's I was manager of Library Services for alternative/art comic book store, The Beguiling, here in Toronto. It used to be located in the heart of Mirvish Village, one of the last residential/retail neighbourhoods with any personality in our downtown core (before the condo developers took over everything), right next to discount superstore, Honest Ed's, and a half-block away from historic club venue, Lee’s Palace (geographical context for all you film aficionados, both are very specific Scott Pilgrim locations).
Thanks to store owner, Peter’s, constant rotation of classic ska and reggae CDs in the store, I'd become a huge fan of Toots and the Maytals during my first year as manager, and one 2005 summer evening, the band were going to play a show at Lee’s. My plan was, work until closing, grab some dinner, then head over to the club for the show. Around 4 pm, I headed out for my afternoon coffee and passed Lee’s Palace along the way. Parked out front of the club was a huge tour bus. Leaning against that tour bus, rooting through his pockets like a fiend, was the man, himself, Toots Hibbert. He noticed me passing, hailed me down, and asked me if I had a light. I apologized and informed him that I didn’t smoke.
And with the depth of soul that only a true poet can muster, Toots replied, simply, “Fucking Canadians.”
He will be missed, but at least we have a wonderful five decade legacy of beautiful, beautiful music.