Suzy Says

Well, I’ve been all kinds of bad this weekend. No gym (though in my defense, I really overdid it on Thursday and possibly Friday); way too much naughty food and alcohol; nothing but amusement and no errands. I’ll start being my usual Puritan self again tomorrow, I promise.

It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood yesterday. Cold enough for a coat, but so sunny that sunglasses weren’t enough to stop the blindness. But you have to love that in the depths of winter. That and the flowering ornamental cherry trees making a pink haze everywhere. Next to sparkly, pink is the best. I even wore my pink cashmere sweater so I fit right in.

First stop yesterday: local institution Swan Oyster Depot. Although it was barely 11:30, the customary line had formed, necessitating uncustomary patience on my part. At least the brothers who work there are sufficiently civilized to offer those waiting in line wine or beer to amuse them while they wait. Once we got our coveted stools, we shared a shrimp cocktail of perfection, followed by cups of the best clam chowder on the planet. Full of clams and chunks of potatoes and dotted with golden butter, probably about a zillion calories, especially when accompanied by the excEt crusty bread and butter. But what the hell. It’s so fun to eat there, watching the ballet in the narrow space behind the counter, the brothers cheerfully serving and joking, skillfully opening oysters (too bad I find them so repulsive – the oysters, I mean, not the brothers), slicing up the bread, stacking the extra bread next to paperback novels on the shelf above the cash. All without gloves. And you gotta pay cash. No plastic at Swan?s.

After lunch, we went to see 25th Hour, the brilliant and powerful Spike Lee movie starring the brilliant trio of Edward Norton, Barry Pepper, and Philip Seymour Hoffman. Nominally about a dealer’s last day of freedom before going to prison for seven years, but so much more than that. Go see it.

After the movie, we decided to stop by and see if John’s barber, Sal, had time to cut his hair. Sometimes, especially on Saturdays, the line for Sal’s ministrations can rival that at Swan’s. But we were in luck. So while John got yet another perfect haircut, I chatted with Sal to catch up on his life. You know how men never ask what you want to know, so I finally had the chance to find out why Sal had moved to Santa Rosa, how he got his second dog, how he was doing at body-building competitions (that’s his passion), and so on. All this for $12 (not including tip), if you can believe that. Sal has been cutting John?s hair for more than a decade now, and only recently raised the price from $10 to $12. I don’t know how they do it. If Sal finds a job in Santa Rosa, I know John will go up there to get his hair cut, no matter what the cost in time and money. A perfect haircut is a rare thing.

Next stop: Bob’s, for the best doughnuts in the city, which I had for breakfast this morning with three very naughty cups of coffee. I better stop bragging that I only have one cup of coffee a day.

After that, I bought a bottle of champagne, or more properly, m&eacutethode champenoise, which just doesn’t sound as good, does it? We had pizza and drank all the champagne while watching American History X, the only possible movie to follow 25th Hour. OK, I drank all the champagne. But no hangover today. Yay!

Here ends my litany of badness. After all, tomorrow is another day. I’ll be good then. Really.