So, we went to New York City with our three boys for some theatre and touring. I asked my brother where we should stay at a reasonable price, because they had been there recently and were able to recommend an inexpensive hotel near Times Square. We arrived at the Dixie, and Art noticed immediately that there was burlesque show in a room off the lobby, but they had our reservation and we were ready for a good night’s sleep. I walked into the room, and found that the sheets had holes in them, and looked like they hadn’t been changed. But it was late, and Art suggested that we would stay one night and then find someplace else. Later in the evening there were discreet knocks on our door, but since we had no immediate needs, we didn’t open the door. The next day, we were busy all day, and we did get to the theater. Alas, one of the lines in the play was “If you’re looking for THAT, you’ll have to go to Dixie”. Further, when our friend Russell Jones (a proper Bostonian) asked where we were staying, his response was “you DIDN’T stay there, you have to get out of there”. But we persevered, and stayed two nights at the Dixie, with no apparent ill effects.