In New York, the sax-quartet stayed in a fifteen dollar a night dive
on Broadway (the Times Square Hotel-Motel) and Forty-First Street.
Because of the recently changed U.S. mental health laws, most patients
not considered dangerous had been sent back into society, duly medicated
and left to their own devices. The top three floors of our Hotel were
home to a hundred of these lunatics who constantly rode up and down the
elevators or paced the lobby and corridors. Zombies, doped and weird yet
mostly they were pleasant and chatty. Whispering. Muttering. Some were
very polite and greeted us each time we returned.
