Tours de Farce: It's A Jungle Out There

And you’re smack dab in the middle of it, running for your life. You hear them behind you, as they close the gap between your life and their dinner. The Who screams through the air. Narrowly avoiding the Pet Shop Boys, you dive into the boat, praying that the engine will start. It does, and as Elvis Costello, Morrissey and Slayer stand on the beach and shriek and screech at your departure, you make your way out of the inlet and into the ocean to safety.

You say to yourself that you’ll never go back. “Let someone else get the tour dates for Randy Travis and Coldplay,” you mutter aloud as the island shrinks in the distance behind you. But deep down in your heart, you know that someday you must return. For there will come the day that you’ll need more tour dates, and promises of quick money and dates for Coal Chamber and Maxwell will someday lure you back to the island of the tours.

Yes, someday you’ll come back. Back to Tourassic Park.