PHYSICIAN HEAL THYSELF ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Tongues were wagging at 7th and Montana this morning as Dr. Mark, an Orthopedic Surgeon, put his foot in his mouth and left it there to simmer for several minutes. The fun began shortly after he made the scene wearing a Lycra Bicycle Suit promoting the Century Road Club Association. You see, Dr. Mark and his buddies are Avid Bicyclists but their destination of choice today was Somewhat Controversial. "We're going to our Starbucks," he said proudly, referring to the location at 26th and Wilshire. "And what exactly is wrong with 7th and Montana?," I asked. "It's too pretentious," he said, "Did you know there's actually someone around here who keeps a blog about everything that happens at this Starbucks?" I paused momentarily before saying, "Can I quote you on that?" Not to worry, Dr. Mark, I'm not easily offended. How about an Apple Fritter for the road ...?!?

BEGGING FOR BAGELS ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Much has been said and written about Howard's passion for Perfectly Toasted Bagels, how he must start every day, no matter where he is, with a Cinnamon Raisin Bagel from The Nosh restaurant in Beverly Hills. We know that Cathy orders the Bagels in bulk, individually wraps, freezes and even ships them, when necessary, to Colorado ... and that Howard has taken the art of Bagel Toasting to a whole new level. But how much do we really know about these Bagels? What Deep Dark Secret lurks behind Howard's addiction? For the answers to these and other questions, I visited the Nosh this afternoon on the pretext of picking up Howard's latest supply.

Me: Hello, I'm here to pick-up a large order of Cinnamon Raisin Bagels.

Mr. Nosh: You must be Marty. We've been expecting you.

Me: Yes. Let me ask you, do all of your customers order dozens of bagels at a time?

Mr. Nosh: Yes, of course. Everyone loves our bagels. Especially Cinnamon Raisin. And Egg, too. They come from miles around.

Me (chuckling): I'm sure they do. But why? What's your secret?

Mr. Nosh: Our Bagels are the best, people never stop ordering them.

Me (suspicious): What do you put in them?

Mr. Nosh (evasively): Try one!

I declined. Afterall, everyone knows I'm more of a Fritter man.

BRANCHING OUT ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Heads were turning at 7th and Montana this morning as a Curious Stick Figure -- a woman balancing what appeared to be a large tree branch across her shoulders -- made the scene. "Good Lord," I said to Ace Photographer Kovar as the Stick Figure made her way across 7th Street, "The Loons are Branching Out!" But this was no ordinary bird: She was dressed like an Ancient Chinese Water Carrier, complete with a Floppy Straw Hat and a Long, Black Braid running down her back. All that was missing were the water buckets on either side of her stick ... and a rickshaw in case she got tired. Rumor has it she was heading to the Palisades, where she's building a nest overlooking the Pacific ...!

FIRST CONTACT ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

There was something fishy in the air this morning at 7th and Montana as the man known locally as the Gorton's of Gloucester Fisherman for his tendency to dress like he belongs on a box of Frozen Fish missed the boat when it came to finding a table at Our Favorite Starbucks. Last seen on New Year's Day scribbling a random list of vocabulary words on a napkin, the Fisherman arrived bright and early this morning, hoping to get a good table. There was just one problem: I arrived at the same time and there was only one table left. I looked at him. He looked at me. I smiled, made a dash for it and sat down. He stood in the doorway, looking more surprised than a plate of Glazed Trout, before making his way to a seat at the counter near the Pastry Case. I had nearly forgotten the incident when, fifteen-minutes later, he tapped me on the shoulder, smiled broadly and said, "You're very enhancing!" It was then that I realized that the word "enhancing" probably wasn't on his vocabulary list. I paused momentarily before replying, "Why thank you ... and you're quite fundamental!" And indeed, he is ... to my blog for today.

GOOD SPORTSMANSHIP ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was Par for the Course at 7th and Montana this morning as Professional Golfer Amy Alcott -- a member of both the World Golf and LPGA Halls of Fame -- made the scene. "You have a nice smile," she said to me, as she walked by. "Why thanks," I replied, "Not to change the subject, but aren't you Amy Alcott?" I went on to explain that several years ago, a little "birdie" in the form of my father, a professional golf writer, told me he thought that Amy lived in my neighborhood. I've been expecting her to swing by Our Favorite Starbucks ever since. Amy keeps busy these days on the lecture circuit and her second book, The Leader Board: Conversations on Golf and Life, featuring "one-on-one intimate interviews" with luminaries ranging from Bill Clinton to Jack Nicholson, is due out next month. In other Sports News, Bowflex Owen, our Friendly Neighborhood Bowflex Spokesperson and Former Professional Volleyball Player, reports that he's recovering nicely from his recent knee surgery. I don't know how he injured himself, but something tells me his knees bowed when they should have flexed ...

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

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet "Two Face" Tyler, the Actor/Barista with a Split Personality and a Nose for News. "I've got some news for you today," said Tyler, proudly, "Look, I only shaved half my face." Sure enough, Tyler -- ever the trend-setter -- has started growing a beard only on the left side of his face. The right side is completely clean-shaven. "Wow," I replied, "That is blogworthy, especially if you let it grow." "Yes," Tyler agreed, "And to think it all started when I broke my mirror in half." I couldn't help wondering whether Tyler cracked a bit more than his mirror. Either that, or maybe he's been drinking too much half-and-half ...!

IT TAKES A VILLAGE ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Eyes were popping at 7th and Montana yesterday as an Anonymous Nincompoop made the scene wearing a Pith Helmet and a Down Winter Coat. "There's something you don't see every day in Southern California," I thought, as the Nincompoop-in-Question marched up and down 7th Street like a Silent Sentinel on parade. "Dr. Livingstone, I presume?," asked Howard, facetiously. "I wonder what he's up to," said Joyce, as the Nincompoop did an abrupt about face and continued up 7th Street for the third time. It was my turn to say something Pithy. "I don't know," I whispered, "But if it takes a Village, there's our Idiot ...!"