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Let's talk tours. First: We have something to promote, we decide to go on tour. Our tour may last a month--- or six--- or it may last years with different legs of the tour planned for different countries and or different times with big breaks in between. That's how Walk of Disaster came about. It started over a year ago---- took a huge break when Troy died, another break when we got in trouble in Mexico--- and scheduled itself to start up again in March of this year.

Calling it Walk of Disaster sounded cool three years ago when we decided to tour and promote. We are somewhat superstitious, but not as bad as other bands--- we're far too pragmatic for that.

Until, of course, this tour really did encompass disasters.

Here we are--- it's the middle of February. Things are set. Things have had to be changed and rearranged. We've lost another band member--- Dylan. We've lost our opening acts--- Gunn and Conger--- and King Horn Ruff is on hiatus. We've incorporated two members of Gunn and broke up their band. Now they are our drummer and extra guitar. Levi negotiated to be the drummer permanently and is paid appropriately. Jeremy right now inhabits a rather precarious position since his services are not technically required, but he's fun, and he comes with Levi.

Since Mexico--- everything about us has changed.

Calling our tour Walk of Disaster also has to change---- which will effectively end that tour and start another one. It will be completely expensive and another disaster to change it all--- maybe. We are meeting with our publicist and staff today to find out how bad it will be.

Ben and I rode in the middle seats of the Explorer, and the other guys were behind us. It had been advertised that we were changing the tour, and loads of people were on hand to witness whatever came out of this room.

I drummed on my leg.

Everyone was stoic--- charged--- already starting their goofy media savvy trained answer dialogue.

Things would be decided here.

Tour.

Tour name change. Dates--- possible changes and cancellations and additions.

We were no longer promoting our album Disaster--- we had the new album--- a double album, which we'd never done before--- over 100 minutes and an extra live show DVD included in this 2-disc set.

In our defense, it wasn't a gimmick. It was due to having so much real live music to get off our chests. What we had left to do for it, was get videos out there. So far--- five singles had been or were about to be released---

I was kicking around tour name changes in my head. Drumming on my knees.

The crowd outside our PR firm was huge--- how do people know about these things? We'd all been noticeably lacking in our attention to social media in the last year--- terribly lacking. I'd been reamed already a couple of times about my lack of posts.

The phone vibrated.

"Aubrey...."

"Rafe? I'm at ABC.... Rafe?" her voice was mottled, we didn't have a good connection.

"I can't understand you. Say it again?"

"I'm at.... One of the twins.... Bedrest... how far...."

I shook my head, holding the phone closer to my ear as if that would help get better reception.

I couldn't even begin to make sense of what she'd said.

"What'd she say?" Jeff leaned forward.

"I think she said something about the twins... and bedrest."

"That sounds serious." Jeff said. "Call her back."

I redialed, but did not instantly feel the concern that Jeff did. But he was a father of three--- so was I--- but he'd been through three pregnancies, I had not.

She picked up, but the connection was not any better. We pulled up to the firm, my brain was on fire with Aubrey issues and the plans we'd be confirming and hoping to confirm with our PR firm.

I felt claustrophobic.

"Aubrey?" I got out and there was instant yelling all around me. I couldn't hear her any better outside of the car.

"Rafe--- it's just that one of the twins--- the sack is on the bottom, almost placenta Previa, which would be really bad. I need another ultrasound, at my offices, that's where I'm heading. My mom thinks bedrest."

"I don't get it. Twins?"

"There are two sets of twins, right? You saw the four babies in the two sacks, right?"

"And something is wrong with the lower set?"

"Possibly."

"Should I come to this ultrasound? Is it right now? I can cancel the meeting."

"No! No, you can't. No, you don't need to come. I looked at the other ultrasound, the one from ABC and I didn't think it was a problem, I didn't see placenta previa, but the tech thought it could be."

"Who is smarter, you or the tech?"

"Me." She answered. "But the tech is trained to see things as well. You should always take into consideration...."

"This is a super important meeting, but if I need to be with you, I will drop it right now." I was standing outside the car, kind of half-heartedly waving at fans and trying to keep my face averted as I spoke to my wife. This was poor form---- loved that line from Hook. Poor form.

I needed to be totally into one or the other, and Aubrey was making it like both could be priorities. Not possible. I chose Aubrey.

I waved and then literally ran inside the offices and went up against the wall near the lobby security screen.

"Baby, tell me again."

All the guys were answering questions outside and allowing photos. All but me.

"The babies are laying in two sacks, they were side by side, but they've moved to one on top and the other on the bottom. The bottom one--- one of the twins is--- heartbeat was--- concerning. I am going for a better ultrasound."

"Did I know you had an ultrasound today?"

"No, no, I was just up at ABCSC and thought it would be fun---- not scheduled."

"Aubrey----."

"I know. I shouldn't have done it without you. I'm too--- I'm too much a doctor. I just wanted to see them again."

"You're too much a mother."

"Thanks."

"That's a good thing." I sighed as I saw the guys all entering the building.

"Rafe--- I'm okay. Angie and Abbie are with me."

"I'm not with you. Who told you bedrest?"

"Doctor Ansell, the OB/GYN at ABCSC, but she's never dealt with multiples. Not quads. I've seen this before. It shouldn't be bad. They are so little, they can move around a bit."

"Aubrey, should you be diagnosing yourself?"

"I'm getting a team together."

"I should be a part of this."

I could hear her exasperation. I was exasperated, myself, as I watched the guys all clear security, and head to the elevators.

"I'll call you from the practice."

I blew out my breath. I needed to be up there. I had input. I was going to be electric, though. I could feel it churning inside.

"Yeah. Okay. But if anything at all is wrong. You--- call me."

"I'll call you anyway."

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you too."

She clicked off. I pocketed the phone and simply stood there breathing. How did one deal with these things? I felt horribly inadequate. I felt like a had a headstrong wife too. One who was a doctor.

I hurried after the guys, holding my arms up for security like at the airport, and racing to catch the elevator.

"Everything okay, bro?" Ben asked quietly, as we were joined by two of our PR guys.

"Yeah, she's having an ultrasound, 'cause she had one this morning on the spur of the moment, her and Angie, and something turned up so they are heading into a better ultrasound person."

"Do you need to go?"

"No, she's going to call me. We both know we need to get this stuff settled."

Ben nodded. "I've got your back, Rafe. You need to leave, just do it." Jeff was nodding from behind him, and Jeremy let his brows raise. I nodded again, this time taking a deep breath, as the ride came to a stop and the doors opened.

Our meeting was held in this huge floor sized lobby area, in a setting very much like a giant living room--- you might call it a sitting room. There was a bar and bartender, and food had been laid out, servers were waiting. Our album cover art had been blown up and was displayed feverishly on the wall on a very nice looking canvas.

I wasn't completely introduced to all of our representatives and the room was chock full of people I didn't know. I knew our band manager, Gordie Virgo. I usually didn't meet with him personally, although he used to follow us around and be involved in everything. Since Troy's death and the beginning of our own production company, we'd seen less of him. It was time to get back to basics. Gordie represented the band. I had a personal representative as well, Oliver Elliot, a young, twenty-five-year-old college grad with the sense of Spiderman and the charisma of Parker Mann--- who by the way, was in attendance, as was Fallon Mann.

There were a lot of introductions right off the bat.

I met the Music Photographer, who was in my face far too much along with his camera guys, Woody Wyman, and Jim and Sal something. I would have been annoyed, but this was why we were here.

Roger Oakley represented the firm to my guys, who probably also worked in league with the firm. I turned my attention to him as we sat comfortably, me, Ben, Jeff and Parker, Oliver and Allen Katzenmeir, our tour director.

Roger welcomed us all--- professionally, offered refreshment and briefly outlined the agenda. His secretary handed out folders. I perused mine, completely fidgeting, impatient. Ben moved his foot to touch mine--- reminding me to stop any nervous movements. He'd been doing this since we were very young. I realized my foot had been hopping. I stopped.

Roger went over the recent additions to our music collection and there was a lot of applause. I tried to ham it up, failed miserably, with my mind on Aubrey, and bowed and nodded my head.

"So, I will turn some time over to our timeline specialist, Rowland Hardin."

Another young guy stood up, I felt like they were all younger than me, and making as much probably--- not really. I started twiddling two fingers.

Our music--- the new CD came over a soft speaker in the room, as Rowland Hardin began his schpeel. "First, there have been major changes in Axis since we met a year ago. Status changes that have not been publically announced, formally announced. Rafe's marriage and the adoptions, his and the band's affiliation with the Mormon Church. This needs to be done post haste with as much fanfare as possible. There should be an announcement party, and all the pertinent people invited. I'll need to understand your affiliation with the church--- mainly to predict what kind of venues you'd be attending etc. If you are completely immersed in the church that is fine--- a little unorthodox, but we can handle it, if you go the route the Mann family has, and stay as mainstream as possible, change as little as possible, and keep it in the background, live it, and live it well, impeccably, but don't flaunt it. Your adoptions should be made public in a tasteful way, my secretary has a list of photo sessions and interviews to bio you and your wife etc. I'm sure you guys can see the pertinent reasons for keeping your bios up to date, and refresh them as quickly as possible when there are changes. The new additions of Jeremy and Levi Gunn need to be overdone--- should have already been done. But that's fixable. We can always go back and re-blog and get some great band photos, and so forth. I have a team of Music Bloggers in the wings as we speak ready to start updating all of your social media profiles and rehearse each of your basic social media loads, and how to keep up. We've reviewed the website and feel it can be revamped as well."

I raised my hand. "We need to rename the tour."

Roger Oakley smiled tolerantly. "We'll get to that for sure."

"All those things he's listing are good. They don't concern us anymore. Plan the party, we'll be there, plan the social media class, we'll get on that, plan the interviews and update the bios, etc." I used Rowland's go to word. "This is why we've hired you guys. We're here to name the new slash old tour, find out what has to be done to fix the legs of it, and yeah--- make announcements." I nodded, unable to sit still, I got up and went to the fireplace and put one foot up on the lower mantle thing. "Guys, we've done the hard part--- getting here. You find the producers for the music videos now, come up with some cool ideas, run them by us, we'll add our two cents. That's where we're at."

"Rafe, we need your input----."

"You've got it. I no longer have time to be involved in every single planning stage of our social promoting life. Give me a calendar with dates and I'll run it by my new social manager, named Wife, and I'll get it back to you the next day. We're fast, we're all fast at that kind of stuff. Plan it. We'll be there."

Roger was nodding, his brows rose in plain acceptance. I'd made myself clear.

"Now, the tour dates and venues need to be top priority. We can't call the thing Walk of Disaster anymore--- it was obviously a disaster. Let's call it something positive and cool. Jeremy--- what are you thinking?"

"Well something positive that represents where we've been and where we are now. I see us as being rather dark---red or black before---."

"Yeah, I get it, now we're white, cleaner, purer, more true to ourselves, our fans, our music." I thumped my hands on the upper mantle.

"White--- hammer." Jeff said. "White hammer tour." I knew he was thinking of Thor--- he'd just re-watched it with Justine the night before. He'd been all freaked out because she hadn't seen either movie. Thor one or two.

"Sword." Jeremy said. "It needs to show power. We've come into our own power."

I agreed quickly. "But not exactly like He-man---- tempered swords... a hammer and an anvil. You've seen an anvil? It's the tough part of tempering steel."

"White Anvil Tour." Jeff said. "It makes you think, and it sounds cool. All in favor?" We all raised our hands. The PR guys all looked around at each other wondering if they were supposed to vote, a couple raised their hands. I nodded and came across the room, looking each one in the eye. "The new CD has a name, Fallen Factor. We think it represents us right now. We're in transition. We need Draft Jam to open for us, just them, we don't need anyone else. The first single is being released--- when?" I snapped my fingers at Gordie.

"This week, Friday."

My eyes traveled to Roger. "It's not too late to plan the party. You'll find that we no longer own the club downtown, but we can go there, if you feel it would keep the continuity, or we can make the big statement and go to the non-alcoholic club in Newport Beach that we bought and do it there. Or both."

They were all nodding and writing things, the camera was rolling.

There was a low buzz about the music we were hearing--- it was different, it was good. The beats were freaking catchy, things could be done with them for sure. And there was more where that came from.

Everybody laughed at that, and the rather oppressive mood I'd almost set was dissipated. They started standing, talking--- exchanging ideas. My guys started making their funny, quirky, press persona's work for them.

Ben came up and clapped me on the back. "You're all there, bro."

"Did you think I wasn't?"

"No, I just thought maybe you'd lose it if you thought Aubrey was in danger."

I scrunched up my nose. "It's like I said the other day with Victorine. It's time to grow up. I'm ready, but I don't think growing up means becoming stale or raunchy, or has-beens. I think it means being seasoned, cutting-edge, and interesting. Mostly we have to stick to who we always were—a bunch of guys having fun. Not a day should go by that you don't recognize that you're having fun. If it ever happens that you wake up one morning and you're no longer having fun, then it's time to make some changes."

Ben looked at the guy next to us, holding up a microphone. "You got that?"

He nodded.

Ben draped his arm across my shoulder. "Great answer."

I shook my head, he was messing with me. There wasn't an answer to any question on the planet he hadn't heard me give. Many, many times I tried to drag these guys in to group answers, and they never--- ever--- helped me out. That's why I make the big bucks, bozo. I'm the front man, and they are more than firmly content to sit back there and be my best friends, and family, and my backup band.

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