I want to set one thing straight. I’m tired of people getting on my back, saying things like “Hurry up and enter the dates for John Hiatt and Mr. Scruff, Silas,” and “Silas, aren’t you finished with Cliff Richard, yet?” and “Silas, do you have to drain that thing in here?” Come on, have some respect for age, will ya?”
When I look around this 691 acre complex of glass and metal, I can’t help but remember the old days when we listed tour dates for bands like The Doobie Brothers and The Buckinghams with nothing but string, a couple shots of rye and whatever we could scribble on the back of laundry tickets. That’s if you could afford laundry. Most of us just sat around and stank.
Now everything’s high-tech. You got your computers, your satellite dishes, and your pacemakers, but old Silas doesn’t need all of that Flash Gordon gadgetry. I get along just fine with my #2 pencil, my lunchtime boilermakers and my 1909 Underwood manual typewriter. Of course, I may not be as quick to post the new dates for Enrique Iglesias and Tone Loc as my computer-reliant coworkers, but slow and steady wins the race. Besides, you in a hurry? Where’s the fire?
So if you see my boss on the way out, tell her Silas will have those schedules for The String Cheese Incident and Mercury Rev ready by the end of the day. Tell her Silas is double-checking the schedule for John Prine. Tell her Silas is proofing the Australian dates for Incubus. Tell her Silas is on the job and that good work takes time, that Rome wasn’t built in a day and all that crap. Tell her I’ll have these schedules, including Little Feat and The Cranberries, finished and posted on Pollstar.com as fast as I can and not a minute sooner.
Right after I finish this Elvis itinerary.