He Knew All The Words

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They say poor people don’t take care of their shoes and that rich people do. At least that’s what rich people say. I have a pair of rather expensive shoes whose toes are splitting from their soles and need to be repaired, and I brought them to work today to take them to the cobbler.

I’ve always loved the word cobbler, and I’m always delighted by it’s three rather unrelated meanings. So if I may recommend a cobbler of each kind, you too may find fascination in the word (and the cobblers themselves, no doubt).

1. For NYC shoe repair, I cannot recommend Continental Shoe Repair, at 2 Barclay Street, highly enough. These guys can resurrect shoes that are literally on their last legs. I trust them with my zippered ankle boots that I’ve been wearing for 14 years. I trust them with my $650 Dior boots (which I didn’t pay for, don’t worry, Dad). I’ve had shoes that were unwearable, worn-soled, ripped-leathered, and split-heeled — they’ve fixed them all.

2. For alcoholic cobblers, go visit Clover Club on Smith Street in Brooklyn. Take a look at their menu and turn to the “Cobblers and Highballs” page. All their drinks are delicious, and all their bartenders are experts. It’s wonderful.

3. For a cobbler dessert, you might try Schiller’s Liquor Bar. Balthazar’s little hipster sister is great for steaks and noise and cheap wine — and apple cobbler! Smile when you go there — it’s the best way to get a table quickly.

1. Slept very late on Saturday.
2. Ate pancakes and bacon.
3. Bought new jeans. Still a size 32 thank god.
4. Picked up my bicycle at the office and rode it home.
5. Confirmed for myself that I hate tourists, that I hate runners, and that the Brooklyn Bridge should be avoided at all costs on the weekend.
6. Confirmed for myself that New Yorkers are truly wonderful and nice when a van driver followed me for a block and a half, honking, finally getting my attention to tell me I had dropped one of my new cycling gloves. I thanked him, rode back, retrieved the glove from the middle of the street (!), caught up with him again at a red light, and thanked him again. He smiled and nodded and drove away.
7. I ate chicken noodle soup soup.
8. I met a friend at Alta, drank a Spanish Manhattan, ate lots of tapas, including a delicious cheeseboard of 6 Italian cheeses, and drank wine.
9. Had late-night cocktails–Sazeracs–at Blue Ribbon’s little wine bar in the West Village. I loved the ambience there, even if those tungsten lightbulbs are a bit overplayed at this point.
10. I learned something new about the Doobie Brothers, namely that the song “It Keep You Runnin’” is very cool.
11. Slept very late on Sunday.
12. I rode my bicycle to Prospect Park, around the loop, and home. It was only 8.5 miles but I’m so out of shape my legs were jelly as I carried the bike up my steps afterward. Eek!
13. I didn’t take a nap, even though I felt tired.
14. I watched Patsy Puttin’ on the Beans (she’s making enchiladas for dinner!!).
15. I went to buy cerveza to go with our dinner.*
16. I ate dinner with Patsy. The enchiladas were wonderful. I supposed the sauce was spicy and it was.*
17. I watched Vicky Christina Barcelona. I loved it. I want Penelope Cruz to win the Oscar.*
18. I worried about work as I lay in bed.*
19. I worried a little more.*
20. I told myself not to worry, and I went to sleep.*

*not completed at the time of posting