"The Village was integrated in a way that Harlem wasn't," he says. "I had friends of all kinds: poets, writers, painters, intellectuals. I thirsted for knowledge, and this was stimulating. It was a dead end for me up in Harlem; the Village offered ideas and a future. When I was living in a loft on Third Avenue, for example, my next-door neighbor Garry Goodrow, an actor-pianist, said, 'I'm going to be in this play, and we need some jazz musicians; would you be interested?' I was interested. I'd lost my cabaret card when they'd found some marijuana cigarettes in my pocket, and I couldn't play in nightclubs in New York. But I didn't need a cabaret card to perform in a theater. Here was a chance to make a living playing jazz and to write some new music."