Newsletter from Smalls/Mezzrow Jazz Clubs

[Ron Thorne]

Another reason I've been a fan of Spike and Smalls for so many years. What an eloquent, elegant statement.


From Spike Wilner's Smalls/Mezzrow newsletter:

"Challenging times, to say the least. As citizens we're asked to make impossible choices and, in some cases, to compromise our convictions. We're demanded to participate (whether we like it or not) in processes that may not be moral or even downright wrong. Unfortunately, in the scheme of the Universe, we are very small. Like the countless raindrops that together make an ocean, we cannot control the waves that we are an inherent part of. I've had many people reach out to me in the last week, via email and in person, to say, "Spike, Smalls is now more important than ever!" In times of war, chaos or uncertainty, the community of artists remains strong if not stronger. Art, like religion, is based on Quality, which is Love. The pure act of creation and transmission becomes more vital than ever in a society based nearly entirely on lies and disinformation. Our music, the great American tradition of Jazz Music, is like a diamond in the mud - it can never be stained or sullied. Inherently, it is too pure. Jazz is not a music of divisiveness, it is a music of unity. Jazz is not a music of hatred or racism, it is a music that connects all like-minded souls, regardless of culture. Jazz is not cynical, it is a music that celebrates life and the true purity of the Human Spirit. As Artists, our job now is to bring the love to the people, to feed them the pure spiritual food of swing and joy and to fly in the face of the soulless machine that supposedly "governs" us. The greatness of our country, America, is in the blend of all the cultures coming together. As we know, this mix can sometimes be violent. But in its best, most noble form, you can see it in a jazz club filled with people of all races, ages, sexes, communing joyfully to the sound of this great music. This can and should be our ideal as American people and as Spiritual Beings."




Smalls/Mezzrow Free Live Stream

[jtx]

I'm going to post the latest Smalls/Mezzrow newsletter in its entirety here, as it is worthy of re-posting:

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SmallsLIVE/Mezzrow Newsletter
June 4th, 2018

My worknight was done. It was about 2:00 AM and the late show was in progress. Everyone had been paid and I was bushed – time to go home. Just as I was leaving I ran into my old friend Paul and we walked together uptown towards 14th street. It just so happens that on the corner of 14th and 7th ave is a place called the Donut Pub. Greenwich Villagers like myself know this place to be an artifact of another time. A place before Starbucks. A place like in the painting “Nighthawks” by Edward Hopper who, coincidently, had lived around the corner. A place where a working person can sit down at a counter and drink a strong coffee and have an excellent, freshly made donut. No fancy latte with almond milk – just black-ass coffee and good donuts. Anyway this place still exists and Paul suggested that we stop in before we said goodbye. I readily agreed. The Donut Pub is a familiar place to me. I am a sucker for a late-night tuna fish on whole wheat, which they do reasonable well there. The late-night counter guy knows me and, for some reason, always calls me “Michael”. I’m not sure how he knows my actual birth name when even my own mother calls me “Spike”.

2:00 AM is a good time to go to the Donut Pub because that's when they bring out fresh racks of piping hot donuts from the kitchen. They have all the classic flavors and some new ones as well. As I ordered my sandwich Paul perused the donut selection. “No cinnamon”, Paul said to me and I helped him search. Sure enough – no cinnamon. I called over to my friend the counterman and asked him why there was no cinnamon donuts. “I am very sorry, Michael, but we just sold out all of them.” Paul was crestfallen. I conciliatorily suggested a cruller or blueberry cake to him but he wasn’t interested. The counterman listened as we went back and forth. Then he said; “One moment, Michael, I have an idea!”. He took two of the still hot, glazed donuts and went back into the kitchen. In a moment he returned with both donuts coated in cinnamon. Paul’s eyes lit up. The counterman was smiling ear to ear. He had taken the opportunity to make a custom order just for my friend Paul.

It made me think of a book I had read once called “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance”. It's a wonderful book that I urge everyone to read if they can. The main topic is the idea of “quality” and what exactly “quality” is. The sprinkle of cinnamon made me think about corporatization and how it's slowly eroding our collective spirt. The commercialism of brands is destroying true, actual quality. I thought, man, if I was in a Dunkin Donut or Starbucks, would the guy run to the back of the kitchen to make up a special order just to make one customer happy? Would they even have the authority if they were so inspired? There it was in a nutshell for me. The quality of small business. Small business is the only way to insure true quality because quality is love – the love and pride of the business owner who wants to serve their loyal and beloved customers - their family. You don’t serve your family shit. As the corporations erode this quality of true customers service they thereby erode our spirits as we accept mediocrity as the norm. Smalls is just like the Donut Pub, from another era. We care PASSIONATELY that you love our jazz donuts. We want you to be a part of our family and enjoy what we have to offer on our menu. We are trying our very best to produce the highest quality jazz donuts and to pass on that quality, that love, to our beloved customers – you. We don’t want you to feel ripped off – we want you to be delighted and enhanced. We will try our best to get that cinnamon for you on that fresh jazz donut. Quality, love of service, a deep spiritual connection to one’s customers. It is an old idea and one that is becoming rarer and rarer. Beware America, it is vanishing right before our eyes.

Regards,

Spike