Dec/090
Rosie’s Corner
Being interviewed made me feel like a star...
Early in 2009, I had the privilege of being interviewed by Dr. Rosemary Hallum for her “Rosie’s Corner” article in “The American Rag,” a periodical devoted to traditional jazz and ragtime. Rosemary has interviewed many, many people, including many of my favorite ragtimers, and it was a surprise and an honor when she contacted me and asked if she could profile me for her July column.
What started as a simple interview blossomed into a wonderful dialog about everything from religion and politics to the muses and everything in between. I think we found in each other a fellow traveler and fellow seeker, and our extended conversation, held over the course of a few months via e-mail and phone (and including a few Google searches of me, I think, as some bits of my resume snuck in here!) was one of the most enjoyable parts of 2009.
Here’s the article in its entirety. Warning: This is one of my most self-indulgent posts ever, which is really saying something. You might want to grab a cup of coffee, a pillow, and an in-flight magazine because damn, can I talk, but enjoy! I think she captured my voice very well. Thanks again, Rosemary, for making me feel like a star.
IT’S EASIER TO ENJOY HIS MUSIC THAN TO SPELL HIS LAST NAME: MARTIN SPITZNAGEL
by Dr. Rosemary Hallum
Human beings are remarkable, each one unique and different from the next, from their fingerprints and body structure to their thought processes, talents, and interests. This makes my writing work very intriguing, because I get to interview many diverse people from sports stars to cooks, from composers to performers.
Dec/090
Goodwill to Men
Well, Christmas has come and gone. No matter how much Christmas music I listen to or shopping I do, it seems like I never am ready for the day when it comes, and then it’s all over like a night in Vegas. It’s like your wedding day only with more reindeer (unless you are, in fact, a reindeer yourself, in which case I suppose you’d have reindeer relatives).
This about sums up my feelings at the moment...
It’s been a very weird Christmas so far. We spent months shopping for people, and we received many nice gifts on Christmas day, and then today we worked to clear out a family member’s house – he’s moved into assisted living and is getting rid of his property – and took truckload after truckload of trinkets and knick-knacks and old Christmas gifts to Goodwill.
It was a surreal contrast. On the one hand we were excited on Christmas to get gifts, to open presents, to watch others open their presents, and then two days later we were besieged by the accumulated detritus of a lifetime, by the weight of possessions and property. It definitely was enough to give me pause and wonder about what is actually valuable.
The things that I think are valuable – our photo albums, for instance – really have no lasting value at all. Jess and I take a lot of pictures – thousands upon thousands, as our Facebook friends can attest – but who is going to give a shit about those when we’re old? No one. They’ll go through and discard them like we went through and discarded things today.
Dec/090
Writer’s Weekend 2009
Dear Reader,
Apologies for disappearing. I was in the wilderness, foraging for food and sleeping in primitive huts. Okay, actually I was in a swanky cabin in Chautauqua, NY, but I was away from the internet, reachable only by cell phone, and that counts as “roughing it” as far as I’m concerned.
The view out the window onto the main Chautauqua house...
The occasion? Writer’s Weekend 2009, an annual event with my friend Mat that is currently in its third year. We started Writer’s Weekend as an escape where we could devote a couple of days purely to our stories. Mat has already completed a novel, a 120-page fantasy adventure, and is currently working on its prequel. I am working on a novel called “The Last Darkstrider,” which features a Huntress, an Illusionist, and copious amounts of deer-on-deer action.
For the past three years, we have managed to escape our workaday worlds and venture out into the great white wilderness, two men in silk pajamas trying to draw down the muses. Here’s a sample conversation to give you an idea of what exactly this brilliant meeting of the minds consists of:
Martin: I heard this amazing CD with Chick Corea and Bela Fleck called “The Enchantment.”
Mat: Is she from Korea?
Martin: Who?
Mat: Chick Korea.
Martin: She’s a he.
Mat: Oh. So Chick Corea is neither a chick nor Korean?
Martin: No.
Mat: [pause] It’s all coming together.
Dec/090
Overheard #2
A little birdie told me...
Mat: It’s not like you slit someone’s throat and then urinated in the wound until sepsis set in.
Me: Did you just use the word “sepsis” in a sentence?
Mat: I did.
Me: Wow, and it’s not even 11 AM yet.
Dec/090
Self-Explanatory
Took this picture in the bathroom of a Pittsburgh restaurant. I thought this was pretty much something us men had tacitly agreed upon, but apparently not?
I thought we were on the same page about this...
My mind is ablaze with questions. What kind of garbage were people throwing into this urinal? How often was this happening? It must have been frequent enough to warrant a sign, which leads me to my next question: What is the thought process of someone who disposes of their trash in a urinal? “Hm. I found this old pen in my pocket while urinating. I tried to write on the wall and it didn’t work, and that trash can seems pretty far away. Maybe I’ll just throw it in here. Yeah, that’s the ticket.”
Shocking. These must be the same men who pee without lifting the toilet seat.
Welcome
Welcome to the homepage of musician, writer, and filmmaker Martin Spitznagel!
Any questions, please e-mail me at martin@spitzfire.com.