IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE PLAN. . . .
And then came the Assumptions.
And the Assumptions were without form. And the Plan
was without substance. And darkness was upon the face
of the Roadies.
And they spake among themselves, saying "It is a crock
of shit, and it stinketh."
And the Roadies went unto the Stage Manager and
said, "It is a pail of dung, and none may abide the odor
thereof."
And the Stage Manager went unto the Production
Manager, saying, "It is a container of excrement, and its
fragrance is very strong, such that none may abide it."
And the Production Manager went unto the Tour
Manager, saying, "It is a vessel of fertilizer, and all who
draw near to it are overcome by its strength."
And the Tour Manager spake amongst the
Management Company staff, and they said one unto the
other, "It contains that which aids plant growth, and it is
very strong."
And the Management Company staff then went to the
Management Company Executive, saying unto him, "It
promotes growth, and it is very powerful."
And the Management Company Executive went unto
the Band and said unto them, "This new Plan will
promote the growth and vigor of the tour, with powerful
effects to be felt by the audience!"
And the Band looked upon the Plan, and saw that it
was good.
And the Plan became Policy.
And this is how shit happens.