In fact, it’s easier to name the ones who aren’t pregnant, for most of the women that make up our 8,516 person workforce have been fighting off morning sickness and backaches as they diligently work on the schedules for Gordon Lightfoot, Hatebreed and Poison The Well. Actually, most of them have managed to fight off the morning sickness, but for those who haven’t, well, we advise our visitors to watch where they step.

Why the sudden increase in belly sizes coupled with strange cravings for kosher dills mixed with jalapeño ice cream? Some think the increased fertility ratio in our little corner of Heaven is due to the fine Fresno drinking water. Others think it’s the carbon monoxide perfume blanketing our city that makes a person’s reproductive organs shift into overtime. No matter, as we look out upon the processing pits, we see happy mothers-to-be and even happier mothers entering dates for Don McLean, updating the schedules for Cyndi Lauper and Jewel and double-checking the venue spellings for Vans Warped Tour 2002. Oops! Looks like operator #4192’s water just broke. Somebody’s going to have to call the plumber.

Of course, things can get a little confusing when half of your employees are expecting and the other half have given birth within the last year. Over in row C, employee #419 accidentally mixed up the schedule for De La Soul with her baby’s feeding schedule. Luckily she noticed her mistake before she FedExed her infant to New Orleans. And over in cubicle Y12, employee #5912 was so rushed that she diapered her baby with the itinerary for *NSYNC and sent her baby’s diaper to Britney Spears. At least, we think it was a mistake.

As you can guess, those of us in management are not very comfortable with all the babies and pregnant employees wandering around the campus. We’ve dedicated our lives to finding and publishing dates for acts like Alan Jackson and The Cranberries, and we’ve never really had time for relationships and families. We’ve been concert-schedule geeks ever since we can remember, and seeing all the swollen bellies and little rug-rats in our compound has us scratching our heads, with each of us tour-date managers asking the very same question…

Has anyone figured out what causes all this?