The Columnist Manifesto

Let's be clear: I did not promise you travel blogging merely because I'm visiting northern New Jersey for three days. No, this is a stepping stone, via Newark International Airport, to a far more exciting destination.

Nevertheless, northern New Jersey is whetting my appetite. Checking into my room at the Sheraton tonight, I had to stand in line behind a big British Airways flight crew. Nothing says "international man of mystery" better than a backdrop of Brit flight attendants saying "cheers!' in their cute little accents.

But wait, it gets better.

DESK CLERK: How are you, Mr. Madison?

ME: Pretty good.

DESK CLERK (In low voice to his co-worker, gesturing toward the computer terminal): Should I give him this one?

CO-WORKER: Go for it!

I decoded the subtext of this dialogue as follows: "I know he's getting the special low rate, but are we still allowed to screw him this badly?"

Well, I was wrong. It looks as if I got the presidential suite. Okay, so maybe the president never stays at the Sheraton in northern New Jersey, with views of a large parking lot and suburban corporate HQ buildings on all sides, and it's only fancy in an Ethan Allen, fake flowers sort of way. But you have to admit, it's a big honkin' room.