My plane touched down at JFK fairly late last night. Rather than fork over the usual $250 for a no-big-deal Manhattan hotel room I decided to crash at the Surfside Motel — a “modest” establishment that smells like cigarettes in the main hallway, and with rooms that don’t even offer desks or table lamps — in Howard Beach, which is directly adjacent to the airport. The tab was only $115. I’m going to write a few minutes more and then get some breakfast at a local diner, and take the A train into town around noon. I’m loaded down with bags, of course. If there was a screening of interest I’d stick around, but I’m not aware of anything in that realm. I’ll probably just go right to Grand Central and train up to Connecticut.
