536228_434204109980436_1023582688_n (1)So yesterday you went to St. Marks Bookshop in the East Village (of New York City) and signed a bunch of copies of your new memoir Poseur. How did that feel? You write very affectionately about discovering St. Marks Place and that very book store as a teen in the late 80s and feeling like you had something of your own in the City.   Something independent of your father’s City. And of feeling like Madonna in and her friends in Desperately Seeking Susan.

It’s true. I was telling this to another journalist last week actually.  That is probably the most important New York movie since Midnight Cowboy and Mean Streets and nobody really gives it credit they way they do say Stranger Than Paradise.  Which is also very important.  But Desperately Seeking Susan totally captures the attitude and style that made me want to move to the City and be one of those people too – before there was even a word for them.  I guess hipster was a word but you know what I mean.  Before I even knew what the word for them was.  Most people see it as “the one good Madonna movie,” but I know I’m not alone in thinking it’s got a lot more going on.  It was a freaking magnet.  So yes, it was cool to have a book of mine for sale in a store on St. Marks. Just off St. Marks if you want to get technical.

poseur-marc-spitz“No one in the world ever gets what they want and that is beautiful. Everybody dies frustrated and sad and that is beautiful.”

Upon hearing these lyrics, my father, Sidney Spitz, then forty-four, took his sneaker off the gas pedal and slowed the copper-colored Mustang abruptly.

One trailing motorist honked loudly from inside her black Datsun, then sped past us. Another did the same and also gave us the finger. My father, squinting in his rearview mirror, stuck his left hand out the window to wave those still behind us around. He hit the hazards and lit up a Kent King.

“Why are we slowing down?” I asked.