GOODBYE TABLE HOGS ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

The Table Hogs -- a group that descends on Our Favorite Starbucks every weekend and takes up two tables and nearly every available chair in the place -- made the scene yesterday.  Thank God there's an app for that!

THE SOUND OF MUSIC ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Mr. and Mrs. Quilty, a delightful couple who made the scene at 7th and Montana this week wearing matching vests that looked they were made out of a quilt that time forgot.  They were purple with swirling, pink peacock feathers.  "Joseph called," I said, "He wants his amazing, technicolor dreamcoat back!"  But they were too busy strutting their stuff to notice.  Some say they're just a pair of unfortunate fashion victims, but I think they've fallen into a terrible Von Trapp.  It starts small, with little things like doilies and quilts and, before you know it, they'll be fashioning play clothes out of curtains and dangling from the Eucalyptus Trees on 7th Street ...

KRIS KRINGEWORTHY ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Stomachs were turning at 7th and Montana yesterday as a would be Kris Kringle made the scene spreading his own brand of holiday cheer.  He whipped out his cell phone and began working his way through his Little Black Book, loudly impersonating Santa all the way.  "HO, HO, HO TO YOU, SUGAR, HAVE YOU BEEN NAUGHTY OR NICE?," he bellowed.  No one seemed to stay on the line with him for very long.  "All I want for Christmas is a good set of ear plugs," I sighed.  Some say he was just being 'sociable,' but I think he must have been dropped on his Egg Noggin as a child ...

A DOG'S LIFE ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was a dog day afternoon at 7th and Montana on Saturday and if you don't believe me, just ask 'Neighbor A,' who made the scene intent on proving that the bakeries in our neighborhood are going to the dogs.  First, he complained about the declining quality of the Danish and Croissants at the Fancy Schmancy Café nearby.  Then, as if to perform a taste test, he reached for a bag of Dog Treats.  "Those truffles look delicious," he said, pointing at a plastic bag of Kibble, "May I?"  "Help yourself," said Richard.  Truth be told, we're not talking about any ordinary Kibble here.  It was a special recipe designed to prevent Reggie, the Polish Lowland Sheepdog, from getting diarrhea.  But that didn't stop Neighbor A.  He pulled a nugget out of the bag, popped it into his mouth and licked his lips with delight.  The whole thing makes me wonder ... what does he do when he sees a fire hydrant?!?

AMSTERDAM ...

I've been in Amsterdam all week and -- while the Starbucks around here isn't as interesting as 7th and Montana -- it's been a busy week, filled with meetings, meetings and more meetings.  There have been some highlights:  One of my colleagues designed all new lighting throughout the Rijksmuseum, the famous museum known especially for its Rembrandt collection, and he gave me a special tour emphasizing how the new lighting has brought the museum's collection to life.  Here's an overview:  Rijksmuseum Lighting.  Coverage of 7th and Montana will resume when I return.

A CLOSE SHAVE ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

7th and Montana was buzzing this morning ... but it wasn't the crowd.  An Anonymous Newcomer made the scene, intent on demonstrating the fine art of shaving.  He took a seat at the bus stop, adjusted the paisley brim of his cap and whipped out an electric shaver.  He ran it over his face for a minute or two, then admired the result in a hand-held mirror.  "Whew," I said, "That was a close one.  At least he wasn't using a body groomer."

COAST-TO-COAST ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was a sad day at 7th and Montana as word spread that David and Kerry are relocating to Florida.  So many people will miss them, especially me, but I think I've come up with a way to keep them up-to-date on the comings and goings at Our Favorite Starbucks.  I've decided to start updating the blog again.  Good luck, David and Kerry ... and if you happen to spot anything unusual at your 'new' Starbucks, let me know! 

THE LICEMAN COMETH ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Eyes were popping at 7th and Montana yesterday as a friendly neighborhood 'mud-slinger' known among insiders as Mr. Lice All made the scene, leaving a trail of dirt and debris in his wake.  He walked through the side entrance and made a beeline for the restroom.  "Shoot," said Genevieve, "I was just about to head in there."  "There's not enough Purell in the Western Hemisphere to encourage me to go in there ... and that's on a good day," I replied.  And so, we cooked-up a plan:  As folks lined-up to use the facilities, Genevieve directed them all to the Fancy Schmancy Café across the street.  I've often wondered whether their business was in the toilet ...

FIGHTING PIRACY ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Shiver me timbers, folks.  Landlubbers were in shock yesterday at 7th and Montana as word spread that a pirate had taken over the condiments counter at Our Favorite Starbucks.  Yes, it's true.  A man in his mid-forties known among friends as Captain Schnook made the scene wearing a three-cornered hat, Jack Sparrow-style dreadlocks and a wool skirt.  The look was part Robert, part Louise Stevenson.  I didn't see him in person, but a friendly witness was quick to text me a photo.  All I can say is, if this isn't enough to make Congress pass some anti-piracy legislation, nothing is ...!

ADVENTURES IN HONG KONG ...

I've been working in Hong Kong for the past week and -- just for the record -- I've been getting more adventurous when it comes to ordering off the menu.  Yesterday at lunch, for example, I decided to branch out and try one of the food stalls at Hong Kong Science Park.  The menu was all in Chinese, so I had to rely on the man behind the counter to translate for me.

Food Stall Employee:  Hi there, are you hungry for lunch?
Me:  You bet.  What's the special today?
Food Stall Employee:  It's something very wonderful.  You'll love it.  Let me show you. (He smiles, dips a pair of tongs into a cauldron of bubbling water and pulls out a hermetically sealed plastic pouch).
Me:  What is that?
Food Stall Employee:  Crocodile Stew with Fresh Lotus Leaves.
Me:  See ya later, alligator ...!

Today I found a restaurant in Kowloon that makes chicken salad with a twist ... of the neck, that is.  They serve the chicken head alongside a garnish of skin on a plate of dark, leafy greens.  I was too chicken to order it ...!

WHISTLER'S BROTHER ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the Whistling Dixie, a local vigilante who made the scene at 7th and Montana this morning intent on dispensing his own brand of justice.  The fun began when two women pulled in front of Our Favorite Starbucks in an Audi SUV.  They left the vehicle in the bus lane, blocking a bus stop, for nearly 20-minutes while they ordered their lattes, then sat there shooting the breeze -- illegally parked -- for what seemed like an eternity.  Little did they know, the Whistling Dixie was lurking nearby and when a bus had to maneuver around them, he went ballistic.  He ran up to the SUV, tooted a whistle that hung around his neck and began screaming at the top of his lungs.  "Get the hell out of here," he shouted, "Don't you realize you're in a bus zone?!?  Just because you live North of Montana you think your shit doesn't stink!  Well, I'm here to tell you it does.  Go on, move it ... MOVE IT!!!"  He shook a cane at them to emphasize his point.  "Sheesh," I said, "Where does he think he is, the Whistle Stop Cafe?"  The women pulled away faster than you can say 'psycho.'  As for the Whistling Dixie, he was last seen patrolling the streets South of Montana in search of Jaywalkers ...!

UPDATE REGARDING MY FATHER ...

Last week was difficult for my father.  He has always had bad allergies, especially in the Spring, and last week they started kicking-in with a vengeance.  The new rehab center where my father is at was quick to recognize the problem but, as usual, didn't listen to my mother when she repeatedly warned them that allergy medications like Benedryl have always knocked him out, especially in combination with everything else he has been taking.  For this reason, he only takes Benedryl sparingly -- half a dosage every now and then.  True to form, the rehab center ignored my mother, loading my father up with a full dosage of Benedryl combined with other over-the-counter allergy medications and the usual cocktail of pills I can't pronounce.  The result was predictable:  My father was knocked out for most of the week, while my mother -- increasingly alarmed -- kept trying to find out how much Benedryl they were giving him.  Given his previous momentum, it seemed logical to assume that the Benedryl, as predicted, was the culprit.  The neurologist at the rehab center denied that the medication was the problem -- afterall, they're the ones that recommended it -- and instead attributed my father's sudden lethargy to his Parkinson's.  Anyone who had seen my father before the Benedryl would know the neurologist was wrong.  Distressed, my mother called the neurosurgeon who operated on my father to begin with (yes, the one whose botched surgery put him where he is today) to get his feedback.  The neurosurgeon immediately suspected the medication was the culprit and asked my mother to request a complete schedule of all the medication my father was on.  If you can believe it, the rehab center refused to release the list even after my mother's call and the doctor's request.  We eventually got it, but only after some faxes and phone calls went back and forth.  It immediately became clear that my father was being over medicated.  They stopped the Benedryl and -- what a surprise -- he is once again coming back to us, becoming more alert by the day.  That's the good news.  The bad news is that -- if you can believe it -- the rehab center just told us that since my father was 'unresponsive' for much of the week, they're inclined to recommend he be moved to a nursing home.  He's only 67-years-old;  the reason he was unresponsive was because the rehab center doped him up.  There's still every chance, given the right therapies, he can recover, but the system is working against him.  Let's face it, the rehab center isn't fooling anyone.  They get more money from insurance at the beginning of a patient's stay than they do after a few weeks have gone by, and my father has been there for a few weeks now.  They are financially incentivized to move him out, regardless of where he is at in terms of his recovery.  Truth be told, we got mixed reviews about this place even before my father went there:  Some friends of the family had a nightmarish experience there, but a good friend of my father's was one of their 'miracle' patients and is on their board of directors.  If I combine what they put my parents through last week with some other problems -- other requests for the list of medications that went ignored, changing dosages without informing my mother, dinner(s) where they forgot to give my father a main course, a refusal to shave him -- I'm left to conclude the worst.  They've taken a meat grinder approach to patient care ... and why not?  The faster they grind, the more money they get.

GRAND THEFT PEANUT ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Shock waves rippled across 7th and Montana this morning as word spread that Peanut, the beloved terrier-rodent mix who wanders from table-to-table at Our Favorite Starbucks, was dog-napped.  Evidently, a little old lady from Hungary, known for pushing a cart around the neighborhood, grabbed the happy-go-lucky pooch and fled the scene when she thought no one was looking.  She removed Peanut's identification tag and collar, threw them in the trash and hid Peanut along with six other "missing" dogs in a secret, dung-infested lair behind 10th Street.  Fortunately, Peanut's owner, Gary, saved the day with some brilliant detective work.  He tracked the woman down and was able to get Peanut back, unharmed.  Rumor has it the woman -- a local Cruella de Vil -- routinely steals dogs in the hopes of getting a reward.  She allegedly waits for the owners to post a sign offering a reward, then calls to collect it.  I hope she gets worms ...! 

MEMORIAL DAY UPDATE

My family has a lot to be thankful for this Memorial Day.  My father is slowly continuing his recovery, step-by-step.  Literally, he is learning how to walk and talk again thanks to six hours of intense therapy a day at his new rehab facility.  Today, he went outside to celebrate Memorial Day, complete with flags that my nephew Jackson made for the family back in Boston.  They even formed their own parade around the grounds at the rehab center.

When I look back over the past few months, I'm amazed at how far my father has come.  He can talk now, but he has trouble carrying on an in-depth conversation.  I think if he could fully express himself, he'd say we have to treasure each moment, appreciate our loved ones, honor our heroes not just today, but every day.  My father is fighting hard to come back to us -- "We won't be defeated!," he told my mom -- and I know he means it.  That makes him a hero in my book!

GETTING PUNCHY ... NEAR 7TH AND MONTANA

Ever wonder where the Loons flock to when they're not at 7th and Montana?  They head several blocks southwest to the Starbucks on Wilshire.  News reports this morning suggest that an Anonymous Nutcase -- a visitor from Hollywood -- walked up to a fellow customer and began punching the top of his head for no apparent reason.  Then he skedaddled out the door and into the waiting arms of the police who arrested him on charges of battery.  Maybe it's time this Nutcase switched to something without caffeine.  How's about a nice, Hawaiian Punch ...?

A SECOND COMING ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

I'm sure you've all been wondering, with my mind mostly on my father's recovery, what type of Loon would it take to inspire me to post a routine 7th and Montana update.  Ladies and Gentlemen, meet 'Mavis,' an eccentric newcomer who made the scene on Sunday with one foot in the Great Beyond.  "Howdy," she rasped, "My name is Mavis and I've been resurrected."  I whipped out my Spycam and avoided making eye contact.  Her voice was so low, she sounded like Mr. T on acid.  "My eyes," she shrieked at an unsuspecting young woman, "What do you think of my eyes?"  "Th-th-they're beautiful," said the young woman.  "No they're NOT," yelled Hazel, "They're HIDEOUS.  HIDEOUS, I tell you ...!"  At this point, the conversation became mostly one-sided.  Mavis ranted and raved her way back to her car, got behind the wheel and cackled up a storm as she raced up 7th Street.  I'll say one thing, if that's her 'second coming,' I'm not waiting around for a third ...!

SLOW PROGRESS ...

Sorry for the prolonged silence, but the truth is, I haven't felt much like blogging.  Somehow, in the wake of my father's botched surgery, 'business as usual' has gone out the window.  7th and Montana is still Chock Full of Nuts, but I just can't bring myself to whip out the Spycam.  Not yet.

My father's condition hasn't improved much since the last update, but it has improved.  Bit-by-bit, week-by-week, he's coming back to us.  He was recently moved out of the hospital and into a rehab facility where a team of specialists is working with him every day.  His right side is mostly paralyzed;  He can't talk;  He drifts in and out of consciousness.  But he's gradually becoming aware of his surroundings and beginning to understand what's happened.  As of today, the doctor still expects a recovery.  Then, again, this is the same doctor who put my father where he is today.  He told us before my father went in for the operation that it was all very "routine."  I guess doctors are only human, and humans routinely make mistakes.

Today my father had another CAT scan and it showed what I had hoped for:  There is still considerable swelling in his brain, though it's slowly going down.  Had the swelling been gone, we'd be left wondering why he is still so impaired and whether the damage is permanent.  Now we can hope that as the swelling goes down, my father will continue to recover.  Thank you all for your continued prayers and kind thoughts.  Keep them coming ... there's still a long road ahead.

UPDATE REGARDING MY FATHER

We've finally had some good news out of Brigham and Women's hospital in Boston.  The night nurse and doctors reported tonight that my father has been 'responsive' -- squeezing their hands and blinking on command -- for the first time since his disastrous surgery.  This confirms what I've known in my heart for some time, that he's in there and very gradually starting to come back to us.  Thank you for all your kind words and prayers.  We still need them, but I know he's going to make it through this.

BAD NEWS ...

Sorry I haven't updated lately, but there's been some sad news in my family.  My father, who was in the hospital for what was supposed to be a relatively routine elective procedure, is not doing well.  The operation went horribly wrong, caused seizures and bleeding in his brain and we're left hoping and praying for his recovery.  Currently, he's in an induced coma but the doctors have been having a tough time waking him.  Until he wakes, we have no idea how badly the operation has hurt him.  I've been at the hospital in Boston praying for him, which is about all we can do right now.  In fact, we could use your thoughts and prayers, as well.  Will keep you posted.

A WARM WELCOME TO OKINAWA ...

Either someone slipped something into my sake, or a very unusual welcoming committee greeted me shortly after my arrival in Okinawa today.  I was originally supposed to be in Okinawa all week, but when I saw how busy things were in our Hong Kong office, I decided to cut the trip short.  I'm here for little over a day.  But that's obviously enough time to see at least one of the local attractions:  Miss Okinawa and her chaperone made the scene at a welcome banquet organized by my corporate 'hosts.'  Miss Okinawa, a local beauty contest winner, seems very down-to-earth.  Her chaperone, however, looked a bit bizarre, like a larger-than-life parody of Miss Okinawa, complete with an inverted rice bowl for a hat.  Now that's something you don't see every day, not even at 7th and Montana ...!

BUDDAH'S BELLY ... IN HONG KONG

Buddah’s Belly isn’t just the name of a restaurant in Santa Monica, it’s a real destination in Hong Kong.  Imagine my surprise when, during a Sunday afternoon excursion to the peaceful island of Lantau, I found myself walking through a doorway into the belly of the world’s largest bronze, seated Buddah.  The locals call it “Big Buddah” and, at 112 feet tall, it’s a major tourist attraction.  The monks who operate the nearby temple have turned the whole thing into a ‘meal ticket.’  They’ve opened a vegetarian restaurant deep inside the statue and in order to gain admittance you have to purchase either a lunch or snack ticket.  I paid the minimum and got a bottle of water.

Right next to the “Big Buddah” is Lantau Peak, one of the largest mountains in Hong Kong.  My colleague wanted to hike to the summit, taking a “path” that consisted of thousands of rocks placed into the side of the mountain, forming a nearly 80-degree climb that makes the stairs on Adelaide look like a walk down Rodeo Drive.  And it gets better:  There are snakes.  I foolishly agreed to the climb, despite the fact that I was wearing a wool sweater and sport coat.  25-minutes and one snake later, I knew I had made a mistake.  “Does the rest of the ‘path’ look like this … and how much longer is it?,” I asked a couple of hikers who were on their way down.”  “For an experienced hiker, it’s about another hour to the summit,” one of them replied, “And the rest of the trail is just as steep as this, with no break in the ascent.”  “Hasta La Vista, Baby,” I called to my colleague, “I’m heading back to Buddah’s Belly for some grub.”  But we didn’t go back to the Buddah.  We spent a pleasant hour wandering through pathways that led to the town below.

No visit to Lantau would be complete without a quick visit to the Tai O fishing village.  The guidebooks call it the "Venice of Hong Kong," but -- while some spots in Hong Kong have a European feel -- Tai O is distinctly Asian.  Small houses are built on stilts and weave their way through a series of winding docks and bridges.  Everything in Tai O revolves around the ocean.  Area residents leave plates of fish in the sun in front of their homes to dry.  They sell all kinds of fishy merchandise -- everything from dried fish necklaces to stewed fish heads -- in an outdoor market.  I ordered something they call "Chinese Pizza" -- a crepe filled with local greenery and special sauce -- and it was delicious.

MORE FROM HONG KONG ...

I'm still busy working out of our Hong Kong office, but thought I'd provide a quick update and share a few photos from my travels.  Hong Kong is a fascinating city.  It includes a series of islands, each with its own personality.  I'm staying in Kowloon, one of the most heavily populated areas of the city, across the bay from Hong Kong island and about 30-minutes -- or two train rides and a bus -- from our office in the New Territories.  The photo above is from the Man Mo temple on Hong Kong island.  Man Mo, built in 1847, is dedicated to the gods of Literature and the Martial Arts.  Especially during the Chinese New Year, hordes of people flock here to make offerings to the Gods and burn incense.  Every time you burn incense, you're supposed to make a wish, which is carried to the Gods on whisps of smoke.  One zealot standing in front of me last Saturday lit so much insence that an enormous pile of ash fell on my shoulder.

I also took a sampan around the Aberdeen Fishing Village.  A friend of mine told me these boats are also known as "Wala Walas" because of the distinct sound they make as they tool around the harbor ("walalalalalalala ....").  My sampan ride culminated in a trip to a restaurant called "Jumbo," otherwise known as the world's largest floating Chinese restaurant.  I won't bore you with a picture of that ... just imagine the Titanic covered from stem to stern with tacky golden dragons.

Here is a shot of Repulse Bay, a nice area of Hong Kong island that reminds me a bit of Santa Monica with mountains that go right to the beach.  Some of the area's wealthiest people live around Repulse Bay because, according to local custom, it has the best Fung Shui.  Ocean breezes supposedly blow good fortune right into the homes and the mountains keep it there.

This final shot is of my office at Hong Kong Science Park.  The egg shape is actually a conference room (called, appropriately enough, "the Egg.").  Our building across from the Egg but we use the Egg for company-wide meetings.  I've been busy, but my local colleagues have been terrific, hosting me for dinners at nice restaurants, and taking me around the area.  Will try to post some more photos later ...!

MAKE MINE A ROOSTER KABOB ...

What do you get when you put Foghorn Leghorn on a plate, pluck off all his feathers and bake him at 350 degrees until he’s a crisp, golden brown?  Lunch at the café across from my office in Hong Kong, that’s what!  Imagine my surprise as a group of specimens like the one pictured above, heads held high, wings tucked neatly by their sides, sat in a perfect semi-circle as if ready to perform a cock-a-mamie Buzby Berkley number.   A matronly chef smiled and waved her meat cleaver at me as I walked by.  I'm always willing to try something new, but this particular lunch special was a definite cock-a-doodle don't! 

 

THE CANE MUTINY ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was a Sting Operation at 7th and Montana on Saturday as two police officers made the scene on the lookout for a Mysterious Curmudgeon with a cane.  "We've received multiple reports of an elderly gentlemen threatening to hit people with his cane," said one officer, "Have you seen anything?"  "You betcha," I replied, gesturing up 7th Street, "He went that-a-way!"  Truth be told, all I saw was an elderly gentlemen, stooped over as he trudged up the street with a cane, but he fit the officers' description to a tee.  "I didn't see him hitting anyone," I added, "But he didn't look happy."  Police remain "on alert."  Meanwhile, as for our angry Citizen Cane, let's hope he latches-on to Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf ...!

URINE FOR A SURPRISE ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Eyes were popping at 7th and Montana yesterday as a woman made the scene wearing what looked like two bottles of urine strapped to her belt.  "Yowsa," I said, "I guess when you've got to go, you've got to go!"  Given the cast of characters who typically frequent the restroom at Our Favorite Starbucks -- including a few who seem intent on claiming squatter's rights -- most folks think the woman was being shrewd.  "I don't blame her one bit," said one witness, "I'd rather piss in a bottle than touch anything in that rest room, too!"  But I think something else was going on.  She's obviously trying to make the Number One fashion statement of the year ...!

MILDEWS AND DON'TS ... !

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Moe L. Dee, the scourge of Delta Flight 4608.  He made the scene last night on the puddle jumper from San Francisco to L.A. reeking of mold.  "Gee this is getting old fast," I said to myself, searching for signs of mildew as he took his seat beside me.  I eventually discovered the source of the odor:  It was a leather jacket which he kept draped over his lap.  The poor guy.  I'll bet that smell puts a damper on his social life.  Underneath it all, he's probably a good spore-t ...!

A LESSON FROM THE GURU ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was a full house at 7th and Montana yesterday.  So full I had to take a seat at the counter against the wall, next to the Guru, the local eccentric known for knowing everything.  I knew what to expect even before I sat down.  "Let me tell you all about the European banking sector," he said.  And then, without waiting for me to respond, he went on and on about the history of the British and Dutch banks.  I tried everything.  I looked away;  I opened my iPad;  I pretended to talk on the phone.  Nothing worked.  For all I know, he's still there now, yammering on about the Rothschilds.  That's the problem with the counter at Our Favorite Starbucks.  It's just like a seat in Economy Class ...!

STARBUXXX ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was eXtreme;  It was eXcessive;  It was ineXcusable.  It was a Triple X morning at 7th and Montana today as an Anonymous Pervert made the scene wearing a suggestive leather jacket.  "Oh, good, there you are," said Robin, rushing to my side, "I just got a photo for you.  Get a load of that guy's jacket."  The Pervert, a man in his mid-forties, wore a white leather jacket with an insignia on the back depicting a nearly naked woman on her hands and knees.  "Gee, isn't that wholesome," I said, adding, "Correction ... make that G-String!"  Kathy was quick to look-up the Italian word "Pecorina," which appeared above the illustration.  "It means doggie style," she chuckled.  As for me, I kept trying to think of a suitable blog headline, but was at a loss for words.  Robb and Robin promised to give it some more thought on their way to church.  Twenty minutes later, they texted me from the pew with Robb's suggestion:  "StarbuXXX!," he said.  "Love it!," I replied, "Now maybe you should focus on the sermon!"  As for the Pervert, for all I know he went to church, too.  Afterall, he's definitely one of those Porn Again types ...!

VALENTINES DAY ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Cupid's Arrow struck at 7th and Montana yesterday and if you don't believe me, just ask the three teens who made the scene extra early to celebrate Valentine's Day on their way to school.  One boy, pictured above, gave his sweetheart a Gargantuan Teddy Bear while their friend schlepped along behind them like a third wheel, holding a bouquet of flowers.  The whole thing was 'unbearably cute' ...!

CHANGES? ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Tongues were wagging at 7th and Montana yesterday as word spread that two anonymous construction workers were 'casing the joint' with clipboards and architectural renderings.  "This can only mean one thing," I said, "There's a renovation in store!"  Who knows, maybe they've ordered a toaster ...!

THESE SHOES ARE MADE FOR WALKING (AWAY AS FAST AS POSSIBLE) ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Something peculiar was afoot yesterday at 7^th and Montana:  A woman made the scene wearing what looked like a pair of homemade Caveman Shoes.  They consisted of various bits of leather and suede stitched haphazardly together and glued to a piece of felt.  Individual toe sockets – nothing more than rolled-up bits of animal skin -- protruded at jaunty angles.  The overall effect was dazzling, as if Hannibal Lecter threw-up on a pair of Birkenstocks.  And it doesn’t end there.  Her pants, a crazy kaleidoscope of lizard, crocodile and cowhide patches, matched her shoes perfectly.  A variety of animal pelts dangled from her shoulder.  Now that's what I call a killer sense of fashion ...!

ASS-FAULT JUNGLE ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet "Charlie Parker," the Local Nimrod who treated the bus stop in front of Our Favorite Starbucks yesterday like his own, personal parking lot.  He tootled along in his Ford Focus, inching his way through a red light and swerving to the bus stop like it had his name on it.  He stepped out of the car and slowly made his way into Starbucks, where he remained for a good ten-minutes.  The crowd gaped in astonishment and prayed for a bus to arrive.  "What I wouldn't give for a bus or police car to arrive right now," said one witness.  But no such luck.  Mr. Parker emerged from Starbucks, cappuccino in hand, and got back into his car.  He pulled an illegal u-turn on 7th, then slowly eased his way through another red light, barely missing a pedestrian on the crosswalk.  Let's hope he ordered a decaff ...!

PILL-O TALK ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was a standing ovation for Neighbor Larry at 7th and Montana this morning as word spread of his latest acting gig.  The talented actor -- known for an array of TV and recent radio work -- is starring in another Viagra commercial.  Congratulations, Larry ... I always knew you were one of the hardest working men in Hollywood!

FROM RUSSIA WITH LOATHE ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was high finance at 7th and Montana yesterday as an Anonymous Wheeler Dealer made the scene pitching a once-in-a-lifetime investment opportunity.  The deal-maker, a Russian woman in her mid-fifties, wore a black cape, a fur boa, dark sunglasses and skin-tight, snakeskin pants.  She took a seat in the corner, whipped out her cell phone and started cursing in the kind of deep, heavily accented voice usually reserved for enemy spies in a James Bond movie.  "Nyet, Nyet, Nyet," she said, before switching to English, "F-ck, F-ck, F-ck!"   She dialed a number and turned on the charm.  "Daaahlink," she began, "I'm calling from my Los Angeles office and do I have an opportunity for you.  Qualcomm is in.  This will be big, I tell you.  It's global.  It's the biggest thing I've seen in a while and, just so you know, I used to run Compaq.  Let me put you in touch with my colleague in Vienna ..."  Just for kicks, I sidled a bit closer and started loudly ordering coffee drinks.  "Lucrative!" she shouted, "I'm only offering this to a chosen few!"  At that moment, as if on cue, the toilet flushed and Rigolatte -- the local loon known for belting out opera tunes for hours on end -- emerged from the rest room, yodeling as he walked by.  I'm not sure whether the Wheeler-Dealer closed her deal, but one thing's for sure, now we know who put the bull in the bull market ...! 

CLOTHING OPTIONAL (?) ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

A nude day was dawning at 7th and Montana this morning as word spread that an attractive regular only occasionally wears clothing.  The fun began when Robin complimented the young woman on her outfit.  "Why thanks," she replied, "Sometimes I get dressed."  Sometimes?  The brief exchange left me wondering what she does on her off days.  "What is she," I asked, "A nudist?"  Stay tuned, folks, I'll keep you abreast of the situation ...!

HAIR WE GO, AGAIN ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was a close encounter with Cruella Deville at 7^th and Montana yesterday as a local version of the fur-ocious 101 Dalmatians scoundrel made the scene.  And like her cartoon counterpart, she was obsessed with a local purebred:  Reggie, the Polish Lowland Sheepdog.  “That dog,” she shrieked, “He’s irresistible.  May I pet him …?”  Without waiting for an answer, she began stroking Reggie’s fur.  “So soft,” she cooed, “So luxurious … so lustrous.  It’s everything one would want in a dog’s coat and more!”  I whipped out my Spycam and kept a close eye on her.  “You know,” she told Richard, “His fur would make an excellent sweater!”  “There's an idea,” I muttered, "But wouldn't he make a better throw rug?"  Meanwhile, as for Reggie, he couldn't take his eyes off Cruella.  No doubt he was thinking what a perfect chew toy he could make out of her hair ...!

LONG JANE SILVER ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was Hi Ho Silver and away at 7th and Montana this morning as a Friendly Octogenarian made the scene wearing skin-tight silver spandex pants, a motorcycle jacket and a purple boa.  She had two pairs of glasses on at the same time, one perched atop what looked like a blond fright wig and the other on her face.  While she sat there, clacking away at her laptop, a steady parade of customers assembled nearby, practically begging me to take her photo.  "Isn't she a bit old for those pants?," asked one.  "Not at all," I replied, "They don't call 'em the Silver Years for nothing ...!"

A CASE OF THE BENDS ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the Twisted Sister, an anonymous newcomer who bent over backwards this morning to attract attention at 7th and Montana.  I mean that literally.  She stretched herself across two chairs and bent her torso into a clam shell like a demented contortionist.  “Howdy,” I said, “Is this seat taken?”  She didn’t answer.  I smiled and tried again.  “My, aren’t you the flexible one,” I chuckled.  Still nothing.  I tried a more direct approach.  “Earth to Mrs. Gumby, snap out of it!”  No response.  Finally, I gave up and went my merry way.  I would have continued trying to get her attention, but why risk getting her bent out of shape ...?

HALLOWEEN, REVISITED ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Eyes were popping at 7th and Montana this morning as an Anonymous Loon made the scene looking like a reject from the Wicked Witch of the West Fashion Academy.  Her outfit was a crazy quilt of crazy quilts billowing around her haphazardly to create that just out of Bednobs and Broomsticks look.  Her shoes, a few strategically-placed pieces of plush suede tied together with rawhide, looked vaguely Cro-Magnon.  Her manner, however, as she walked up and down 7th Street playing folks tunes on a guitar and talking incessantly on her cell phone, seemed all too rehearsed.  She even stopped in front of my table in what seemed like a staged photo opportunity before continuing on her merry way.  "I'm catching a ride up North tonight," she said loudly.  As for me, I just shook my head.  "Some people will do anything to get into the blog," I muttered ...

INTERIM UPDATE ...

It's been a busy few weeks and I've had little time to post lately.  Mainly, I was at the Consumer Electronics Show (CES) in Las Vegas and then, shortly after I got home, I got sick.  I returned to 7th and Montana this morning, mostly recovered, so will try to post a new update on that later today.  That is, if I can figure out how to post photos, again.  It seems like Google has made some changes to 'Blogger' designed to prevent you from uploading photos directly from your PC and instead pushing you to use their own Google+ service.  It may take me a while to figure this out ...