Tours de Farce: Like Father, Like Son
I love my job, but I’m a little worried about stress. When I look at all the tour data that needs to be processed, it can seem a bit overwhelming. I’m updating Dave Matthews Band and Dixie Chicks, and I can hear the fax machine churning out the latest for Pat Benatar. I’m trying to stay calm, but it’s almost as if my skin is being filleted with piano wire. My analyst tells me that I should try putting a paper bag over my head and take deep breaths. But that interferes with my hearing, making it almost impossible to hear all the voices in the room.
And I need to hear those voices. They guide me throughout the day. Right now they’re saying, “Check the fax machine for The Young Gods, Irving,” and “You better read that email about Compay Segundo, Irving.” Like I said, it’s been a busy morning. And to add to it, the voices just keep getting louder.
The loudest of the bunch has to be Samuel Franklin Xavier. He was a promoter in Jamestown back around 1735 until the townspeople tarred and feathered him for booking a wandering minstrel at two different taverns on the same night. Then they hung him. Oh, just a second…
“What’s that, Samuel? Right away, Samuel. Whatever you say, Samuel.”
Well, I gotta get back to work. I have to finish entering these dates for Indigenous and Isaac Hayes. Samuel tells me that the other employees are out to get me. He says that they don’t like me and that they’re all laughing at me behind my back. Samuel says it’s all coming down on Monday. Most important of all, Samuel says I should get them before they get me.
As you can guess, Samuel knows a lot about the concert business, and he really likes to watch out for me. He tells me to call him “Sam” and says he thinks of me as his own son.
Hmmm. “Irving, Son Of Sam.” I like the sound of that.