Our founder’s kid brother and first sales manager, Moses Pollstar, would tattoo the dates for Bing Crosby onto the little porkers’ rumps, give ’em a good slap and send them out to the four corners of the known world. In fact, we were going to call this company Porkstar.com, but a careless typist messed up the trademark application forms.
Needless to say, things are different now. And even though our workforce numbers well over 15,231, we still haven’t forgotten our small-town roots. We work as hard today to bring you the dates for Amy Grant & Vince Gill’s “A Christmas To Remember” as our Moses did over 70 year ago when he wallowed in the muck with needle and ink.
These days we utilize the latest technology, and if what we need isn’t available, we invent it. For example, buried 500 feet under Pollstar.com’s research and testing facility is the concert core, consisting of more than 300 miles of fiber optic cable wrapped around the seven-ton electromagnet that supercharges our vast memory banks. This is where we store the dates for bands like American Head Charge and Pulp. This is the heart of Pollstar.com.
But highly concentrated emanations of electromagnetic waves and tour dates do cause some problems. However, we’ve managed to lower the mutation factor, and most of our employees should be able to look forward to having babies and raising their own families by 2010. But we’re still having trouble with body piercings being ripped from our workers’ navels, noses and ears and flying across the compound to adhere against the outer walls of the building above the concert core. But what’s a little discomfort when the final results are the schedules for Canned Heat and Lee Rocker? Besides, does anyone really need a belly button? Unless, of course, that someone is named Britney Spears.
Yes, we’ve come a long way since that fateful day in 1931 when our founder, Festus Pollstar, acquired the seed money for this company by cheating Henry Ford at stud poker, stealing the auto pioneer’s Model T and driving it to Fresno. And thanks to modern technology, we don’t have to follow in Moses’ footsteps and round up the pigs each day, tattoo dates for acts like Chris Smither or Old 97’s on their leathery little behinds and send them out into the world to spread the concert gospel. No, those days are past. Those days when the concert industry was young and this company was not much more than a gleam in our founder’s shifty eyes.
Those days of swine and Moses.