How Long Until We Are Hit Again?

My Time-Warner issued mobile phone buzzed on my nightstand at 6:30 Thursday morning. Since I went to bed at 1 after a few beers, this was quite early. My desk informed me that there had been a terror plot foiled thanks to our good friend James Bond and MI-5 with some help from our own Criminal Intelligence Agency. That means several days spent at our own Charlotte Douglas International Airport talking to passengers about the new security measures in place and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

I met Adam Shub at CLT and was pleased to see that we both had stopped for coffee despite being called in and asked to hurry. We gathered some sound, turned a quick package for noon and did another one for five. It was actually a pretty easy day, but still a pain in the ass. It was hot, and with five generators running at the same time about ten feet away from everyone, we breath a ton of carbon monoxide throughout the day. I smelled horrible when it was all over. Like I'd been cutting grass for eleven hours.