I used to have a Bob Marley Rastaman Vibrations CD signed by both Damian and Julian Marley. I think I was 17 in Tucson, AZ, I saw a tour bus parked behind Club Congress, no markings or anything. With all of my 17 year old wisdom I walk right up to the door and knock door swings open, smoke POURS out, and I swear I was staring what must have been the ghost of Bob Marley himself right in the face.
"Whatcha want mon?" I replied uh, uh, uh, ..... ,"Why da cat got yer tongue boy?" this guy asks me. I had headphones on and ripped them off my head, I pulled out my CD from my pocket and just said, "You look like this guy, a lot."
He took my cd case and looked at it for a second, "Dis ere onea mi own favorite. Come wit us, we gonna go eat now." With cd case still in hand he walked past me and out comes a less Bob looking Rasta and 3 or 4 of the most massive dreadlocked 500 pound (had to be) men I"ve ever seen.
We all go inside of the Club Congress and have a seat in the booth, the huge dudes start assembling plates for us all from a buffet of Jamaican foods. The one with my cd case tells me, "Dis ere music is from mi fatha. Mi name is Damian, this my brodda Julian. It a pleasa ta meet ya, please break bread wit us."
I think I just mumbled ok, i was in awe, the flesh of Bob Marley himself, it was like looking right into the past. In retrospect Damian doesn"t look THAT much like Bob at all, but that day he sure did. I told him my name and he asked if it was ok with me the he signs my cd case, I say uh, sure. I was really at a loss for words the entire time.
Julian invited me to the show that was gonna happen in about four more hours, but I was a stupid kid who had landed on probation, house arrest actually, but hey, the tour bus was on my way home from job searching, the one thing I was allowed to do, so I had to respectfully decline. Damian teased me, "Dis why you don"t do no crimes against your broddas. Every out dere is your brodda or your sistah, and if you do, don let tha police grab ya!" He was laughing his ass off at my story. He told me if I did make my way to the show, afterward we could all go to the bus together and smoke >.<
Oh course, I didn"t break probation, sneak out, or get high with the sons" of Bob, but I got a cd case signed by both, each with a personal message written just for me. Naturally, some dickfuck stole it and sold it to PDQ Records in Tucson, AZ where they offered to sell it to me for $500. They still have it, last I checked. One day I"m gonna get it back.
The answer to your question of, why? is sentimental value.