I’ve been really busy this year. We recharted the work flowchart, and I’m now responsible for all performers ‘N’ through ‘Z,’ like ‘N Sync, Sting and Zuco 103. I knew that remedial alphabetization class I took at the junior college would pay off one day.

I’m also in charge of our college intern program. That’s were college students earn classroom credit by working for free. Right now we have one intern and he answers directly to me. Finally, some real power.

Take today, for instance. The intern has entered dates for The Statler Brothers, washed and waxed my car, proofed the new dates for face to face and scrubbed the blood stains from the carpeting around my desk. Having someone who does anything I say is fantastic. Now I know why people go into management. Or why my mother always remarried.

If you’ve never been in charge before, you don’t know what you’re missing. Every day the intern follows me around asking things like, “Do you want me to add that new Euro date for Bon Jovi, Irving?” Or, “Should I call the booking agency and ask about additional dates for Julio Iglesias, Irving?” And, “Do you want me to wipe that for you, Irving?” They say absolute power corrupts absolutely. I can only hope.

Would you excuse me for a minute? I just have a few more orders to give to the intern before I head out for the rest of this weekend. “Hey, you! Did you process the dates for Culture featuring Joseph Hill? What? Not yet? I warned you about falling behind. Oh, get up, I didn’t kick you that hard. And don’t forget to scrub those toilets before you leave tonight. Do a good job and I’ll buy you some Tidy Bowl for Christmas. Now get moving before I really hurt you!”

Gosh, all this power makes me feel important. I feel like I’m in charge. Like I’m king of the world.

In fact, I feel just like George Bush.