Back before that fateful day in 1931 when Ol’ Festus woke up in the Fresno County Jail after a three-day bender spent sucking turpentine off of fence posts, and found himself chanting the concert info mantra of “date, city, venue,” over and over as his vision cleared and his sense of balance returned, concert schedules were mostly used to decorate cigar boxes and spittoons. But Festus saw gold in them thar routings, and quickly set about to build the largest third party concert info company the world had ever seen. The same company that brings you fresh dates for bands like Depeche Mode and for artists like Hal Ketchum and Alanis Morissette each and every day.

Of course, the Internet was still in its infancy back when Festus was running through the streets of Fresno kicking dogs, terrorizing widows and ranting aloud about concert schedules for Bing Crosby and Al Jolson. In the early days of tour data dissemination, concert schedules were printed on cheap paper and decorated with hand-drawn pornographic images. But Festus wanted to present concert info in a friendly environment safe for homes and families, and in 1931 took the major step of upgrading the paper used for printing schedules for The Three Stooges and The Marx Brothers, and kept the naughty drawings for himself.

But it didn’t stop there. By the 1950s concert schedules had been delegated to the world of comic books, and Festus worked feverishly to place itineraries for Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis amidst pages depicting grown men wearing masks and skin-tight outfits. But congressional overseers were alarmed at the level of violence shown in such portrayals, and by 1960 the schedules for stars like Pat Boone and Tony Bennett were once again used as intellectual fodder to legitimize the marketing of skin-oriented mags such as Playboy and Popular Nudist.

However, Festus wasn’t perturbed at the sudden reversal of events, for the ’60s were followed by the ’70s, which in turn heralded the dawning of the ’80s and the birth of the ’90s. And, along with that remarkable progression of decades, came the rise of bands such as Vixen, Better Than Ezra and Backstreet Boys, as well as a new medium in which to transmit such vital data. And the rest, as they say, was history.

And tomorrow? Who knows what the future has in store for concert schedules? Sure, microchips implanted directly into concert fans’ brains are seen as sure bets, as are nano-tattoos and instant updates via suppositories. But as history has shown us, one never knows for sure how tomorrow’s itineraries will be delivered to a concert hungry populace. But as technology moves forward, concert itineraries will continue to be the foundation upon which hope and courage thrive, thus making even the dreariest existence a life worth living.