"We know how to get along, even when we're not getting along," he chuckled. "Being together for so long allows for a kind of shorthand. I know what's fixing to happen by the way Tim looks at me."

Speaking from his hotel room in Edmonton, Alberta, McMahon is high on the rush of a brand new tour, a two-month road shift for the keyboardist that doesn't even seem like work.

"Everyone is real familiar now with the record ("Live Like You Were Dying"), and people have their favorites," he said. "It's a blast to see everyone singing along."

The summer tour, which sold out in every market before the bus started rolling out of Nashville, is the cherry on top of the sundae for McGraw.

The superstar had just wrapped his first major film role ("Flicka"), heard his genre-spanning duet with Nelly, "Over and Over," had sold 2 million copies and recently returned from Rome, where he and the Doctors performed for Live 8.

McGraw and main squeeze Faith Hill were the only Nashville artists invited to the global gig.

"It was really great to go to the other side of the world and have fans raising (McGraw) banners, although most of the people were there to support the spirit of the event," McMahon said.

"We don't typically play the same bill as Duran Duran -- who were great. It was so exciting to be part of something of that scope."

On the home front, McGraw, McMahon and company also have seen another endeavor take on far-reaching implications: the No. 1 hit "Live Like You Were Dying."

"We found that song as Tug was fighting his fight, and worked on it in the studio while he was still with us."

Tug, as in McGraw, Tim's dad, who died of brain cancer in 2004, remains close to everyone's hearts, as well as being the motivating force for the Tug McGraw Foundation. The organization funds research into ways of creating quality of life for brain-cancer patients.

Because of his friendship with the late baseball star and involvement in the foundation, McMahon was asked to add pages to the second edition of Tug McGraw's biography, an honor, he says.

Every time the Dancehall Doctors begin playing the poignant tune, it's a tribute to Tug, of course, but McMahon says the song's transcendent message has hit a big nerve across the country.

"(The song) is a way for Tim to tell this story that needs to be told from the heart," he said. "The song continues to have new meanings for all kinds of people."

McMahon, 41, admits it's his favorite to play live for folks who so deeply appreciate it.

On this tour, he has the chance to play the tune to his heart's content, not to mention other ballads and kickin,' tear-the-roof-off-the-joint numbers in the band's songbook.

Being a Dancehall Doctor is a dandy post, especially since the boss is such a swell guy.

"We are like a football team, working together all the time to be the best," McMahon said. "And Tim is a member of the team, no doubt about it."

© 2005 Grand Rapids Press. Used with permission

Copyright 2005 Michigan Live. All Rights Reserved.