Terminal 5 notes

Above, jetBlue terminal 5 in all its bossanova super-swinging-sixties glory. Drink it in. From what I'm told this is quite different from any other JFK terminal, and it is brand new. Lined with restaurants, bars and kind-of high-end shops, maybe not high-end, trendy, trendy shops, almost hip but really more trendy. There is a Muji (to go), which is pretty hip though my companion believes it overpriced. Of all the shopping options though, the Sony vending machine is my personal favorite. Having never had a burning and immediate need for a PSP, GPS or E-book reader, headphones however make sense. Headphones crap out on me all the time, I guess I have really gunky ears or something. Eww.

Its nice to have this as a last view of NYC.

Also above, note the sandals. I have prepared for the return to lower latitudes. It got downright cold while in NYC, like below freezing cold. And the wind whips down every street in a way that's just strange to a Florida flatlander. The cold is strange to a Floridian too but I expected it, being December and all, but wind down every street and avenue in every direction. Cold hard wind filled with a needley ability to strike through your clothes. Enough of wind, simple temperature difference across distance , not the mean-spirited breath of Jack Frost himself. Seriously though enough of wind. 

So I leave New York behind with moments stacked in otherwise unused caverns in my mind left their to age like cheese till ripe for use in some dissimilar story. I leave knowing no point in the tourist attractions of the city. I leave with knowing sheer joy in eating is embodied as Korean BBQ. I leave knowing someone with an unhealthy obsession with muffins, admittedly the locale of this obsession does make extremely good muffins. I leave with the promise of returning but pretty much staying in Brooklyn. Brooklyn, where my grandfather was born and my friends live.