Yeah, finished the album (actually, more of a beta version, Noon 0.9a) early this morning. A few mix adjustments are necessary, then post-production begins in earnest. Absolutely fucking psyched.
On to the thrills. The car service sent a no-nonsense, bottle blonde babushka, and we chatted aimably in Russian and English on the way to Newark Int. Exhaustion always seems to set in once the passenger-driver blab winds down; this ferry across the Styx was no exception. One last panimayu, a listless nod, and then I was outside the Town Car, watching my eyes roll back into the driver's skull. Damn, I drooled all over my linx waistcoat!
(Tom's lint-trap mind wanders, and his three working paws shuffle along in dour accompaniment... On the way to the terminal, July 12, 2005.)
Arrived 90 minutes ahead of schedule. Elvira phoned with her customary seven ring alert; we chatted via Messenger until boarding. Looks like Spain is out, and the Mediterranean coast of Turkey is in... Crammed into the herring tin, and off to Charlotte-Douglas...
(The awe and wonder that is the US Air lounge, Newark Eagle, or Freedom, or whatever the fuck they're calling it now, July 12.)
A delightful three hour weather delay in North Carolina. I hate this goddamned terminal. Seventy-five percent of the passengers are fatties; they have rocking chairs set up throughout the joint! I made a short film of passersby; enough to curdle the blood of a combat surgeon.
(One of the less horrific frames from Tom's video, Charlotte-Douglas Airport, July 12.)
An even smaller jet, stuffed with twice as many passengers. No service whatsoever. But, I got what I paid for, which was practically zilch. ($94.)
Escaped from long term parking, and zoomed south on I-75. Listened to the Noon beta twice. Don't wanna beat an infant horse o'ermuch, but... I'm stoked.
Made it back in uder three hours. Ready to pass out, so I'll bid adieu until tomorrow.