He can tell if you lead with your right foot or left; have a cat or a dog, drive a stick or an automatic; make your living as a hairdresser, or have an injured foot. Is he a psychic?

For the past twenty-five years, Glenn has been a Cobbler and the proprietor of Sunset Shoe Repair @ 621 Irving Street, between 7^th and 8^th ( 415-661-8259). It had been his father’s business, but Glenn’s father, Ray, did not begin his career as a Cobbler. Originally, he was a Barber who took a sharp right turn. It was the 1970’s and as men’s hair grew longer and longer, facial hair prominent and scruffy; the need for Barber’s dwindled.

It was 1976, when the landlord offered Ray the Shoe Repair Shop for $85.00 a month with the promise that the existing employees would teach the Barber their craft and he, too could become a Cobbler. The Eagles encouraged us to, Take It To The Limit, disco and funk were doing their thing, the Bee Gee’s let us know, You Should be Dancing, and Wild Cherry commanded, Play That Funky Music, and we did.

Although the N Judah stopped directly in front of Sunset Shoe Repair,(it still does), gasoline was sixty cents a gallon, a shiny Pontiac Firebird, Chevrolet Camaro, or a group of surfers heading home from Ocean Beach in a spray painted VW van, could all be seen from Ray’s storefront window. It was possible that they all saw a rainbow.

As a Barber’s son, and a Catholic School boy, Glenn’s hair was not as long as some of his friends, or neighbors in his native Richmond District neighborhood. Nuns educated him at Star Of The Sea and he remembers that time clearly,

“People have horror stories, but I didn’t. The nuns were strict, but not mean.”

High School brought a welcome change and Glenn attended and graduated from George Washington High School. There is an intimacy shared by San Francisco natives, illusive to those of us, who now call San Francisco home. While in his shop, walking down Irving Street or on the N Judah, Glenn encounters former classmates, customers, neighbors or on a very rare occasion these days, someone who remembered his father.

As a young boy, Glenn expected that he would wear a suit and tie and quite possibly work in an office downtown. Like all our lives, the unexpected happens, and it changes who we become. He credits his parents as the people that have inspired him the most.

“They made me the person I am today. The way they raised me, the things they taught me. That’s why I am so easy going.”

For many years Glenn worked beside his father, and as his father’s health declined he took a more active role in the business. After his father passed away, Ray’s middle son, Glenn became the owner of Sunset Shoe Repair.

“It’s a lot of responsibility, and long hours. I like my customers, but sometimes, I’m dreaming shoes.”

I have to admit, I have those dreams too.

Glenn exudes a quiet calmness, steady patience and a broad smile graces his face with ease. He know the shoes he walks in and your shoes too.

I wonder about some of the shoes he admires for men.

“John Lobb. They are luxury shoes, handmade in London.”

Several craftsmen work on their specific area of expertise, to create what is known as the John Lobb shoe. The shoes are made to measure, one pair at a time using fine leather skins. Only one hundred shoes are made each day. In days past, the Opera singer, Enrico Caruso put John Lobb’s on his feet, and today, Daniel Day Lewis is more than comfortable in his Lobb’s.

The John Lobb motto: “The Bare Maximum for a Man.”

If you had your heart and sole, set on an American company for your next pair of shoes, Glenn would recommend Allen-Edmonds, a Wisconsin based company also crafting hand made shoes. They are committed to quality, service and integrity, qualities I experience at Sunset Shoe Repair.

For himself, Glenn prefers the Italian hand made, Tod’s. Even the leather is hand cut. Their slogan: Not just a shoe, but a lifestyle.”

Glenn will hit a sale at Sak’s or Neiman Marcus and buy a few pair of the rubber pebbled and split sole loafers.

“I like them, but they’re not practical.”

I know a little about loving shoes that are not practical, so I ask his opinion.

“What shoes do you think would be good for me?”

He has seen and repaired my size 10 boats. He knows I drive an automatic and that I create scratch marks from the brakes. He also knows that I am not dainty and I must wear a heel preferably a skinny one with some height.

“For you, something with stretchy material. A Via Spiga, Stuart Weitzman or a Donald Pliner.”

With the Sex and the City movie opening next week, I have to ask,

“What about Manolo Blahnik’s?

“Too narrow for your feet.”

I certainly know I can’t expect an inheritance and that my feet are fat. I guess I could say, wide, however, I need to let the vision of myself strutting in Manolo Blahnik’s stilettos, fade.

Glenn can tell by looking at your heel, if it got stuck in a grate, wedged into the groove of an escalator or had a unprecedented fall. He can replace an old sole, give you a new tap, tighten a stitch or stretch a too tight pump.

And if you’re looking for Manolo Blahnik’s or Jimmy Choo’s, he suggests,

“Try the consignment shops.”

Three of his favorites, Cris (2056 Polk Street),Goodbye’s (3464 Sacramento Street), and Jane (2249 Clement Street).

Glenn likes living and working in this neighborhood, and that,

“It is a neighborhood. There is still a five and dime, a drug store and at I think forty restaurants.”

Regarding the demise of shoe repair shops, he offer’s,

“There are so few shoe repair shops now, we are more like colleagues, than competitors.”

In fact, he repairs Mrs. O’Sullivan’s shoes free of charge. She is the widow of a former Cobbler.

“We take care of each other.”

I smile as he tells me this. He smiles wider.

“We save soles and heel people on a shoestring budget.”

I am grateful to have Glenn as my neighbor and Cobbler.