THE 55-YEAR-OLD VIRGIN ... AT 7TH AND CALIFORNIA

No matter how you look at it, 2009 has been a rough year. The national unemployment rate is at 10 percent, its highest level in more than 26 years, the budget deficit is at $12.1 trillion and we're fighting two wars at the same time while fending off terrorists who store explosives in their underpants. But if you think you had a bad year, consider the case of the "55-year-old Virgin," the marble statue who stands sentinel in front of St. Monica's Church at 7th and California. Shortly before Easter Mass this year, someone hacked off her head. Local priests tried to glue it back together but, alas, how many resurrections can you celebrate in one day? For weeks, the Virgin suffered the ultimate indignity: Someone covered her unsightly stump with a plastic garbage bag. And then she disappeared.

"The statue is out for repairs ... and will return soon," read a sign on the pedestal where the Virgin once stood. Months went by; Summer yielded to Fall; Winter arrived ... and still no Virgin. Frankly, I began to worry.

And then today, like a New Year's Miracle, she returned, stronger and more resilient than ever. Sure, she looks a bit jaded now, but that's just because she's been re-cast in bronze. I just hope whoever chopped off her head doesn't own a blowtorch. Meanwhile, here's hoping you all -- like the 55-year-old Virgin -- get a head in the New Year ...!

WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

The Unthinkable happened this morning at 7th and Montana: The Dignified Walking Lady, known for wearing Arctic Attire in 85-degree heat, was finally appropriately dressed. Don't get me wrong ... she didn't change a thing. She was clad in the same heavy, woolen jacket, sweater, multiple scarves, long skirt and hat that she always wears. But the temperature was unseasonably cool at only 53 degrees. "It's official," I said, as she smiled and waved her ivory-tipped cane at me, "Hell has finally frozen over!" And then, something wonderful happened. It started raining ... and the Dignified Walking Lady wasn't prepared. I think there's a lesson to be learned here: Mess with the world order and you'll get all wet ...!

DREADFUL DREADLOCKS ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA

It was a Hair Raising experience at 7th and Montana this morning as a woman known among insiders as Penny Dreadful made the scene with such a scary hairdo I wasn't certain for a moment whether I was looking at her from the front or behind. Her hair fell below her waist in a mass of greasy dreadlocks that made her look like the love child of "Cousin It" and Ziggy Marley. "Good God," I muttered, "Her hair is so tightly wound it must be cutting off the circulation to her brain!" Now that's what I call twisted ...!

TRANSISTOR RESISTOR ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet "Mister Transistor," a Local Eccentric who made the scene at 7th and Montana yesterday with a noisy transistor radio. Not only did he blast static up and down 7th Street, but he held the radio right up against the ears of his beloved pooch, "Barbara Boxer." Indeed the radio, like its owner, seemed to be tuned to a peculiar frequency all its own. "Should we ask him to turn that thing off?," asked Neighbor Richard. "Go ahead if you want," I said, "But I'm keeping my distance." Something tells me the only way to reach this guy is if you hand him a hat made of aluminum foil with a built-in antenna ...!

THE NUTS DON'T FALL FAR FROM THE TREE ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

They say "all the monkeys aren't in the zoo" ... and nowhere is that more true than at 7th and Montana. Meet Jungle Jim, a Local Loon who spent the morning dangling from a Eucalyptus Tree in front of Our Favorite Starbucks. I have to admit, I felt the slightest bit guilty walking up to him with my Spycam and taking his picture. Afterall, it's not much of a challenge grabbing a photo of someone who's just hanging around, practically asking to be photographed. Then , again, sometimes you just have to go for the low-hanging fruit ...!

MOTHER KNOWS BEST ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

It was Mother's Day today at 7th and Montana as Barista Amanda made the scene with her mother, Susan. Susan beamed with pride -- and let us in on a little secret -- as Amanda went about her business. "Coffee's in her blood," confided Susan, "Amanda's grandfather was a Buyer and Roaster for Polly's Gourmet Coffee in Belmont Shore." Research suggests that Polly's is to Starbucks what Filet Mignon is to McDonald's. According to one recent report, the owner of Polly's keeps a side-by-side display of Starbucks coffee beans next to his own to show everyone just how much more "plump and shiny" the Polly's beans are. Maybe that's why Starbucks has been going all out to attract more business. No sooner did Amanda's mother take her leave, than Barista Anthony posted a sign on the front door offering one and all a free coffee as part of a new Starbucks Rewards program. Take that, Polly's ...!

ONESIES, AHOY ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Jolly Old Saint Nick may have come and gone last night, but if the crowd at 7th and Montana is any indication, he intends to leave us laughing. Everyone, it seems, got a pair of Snazzy Yuletide Pajamas and decided to wear them out in public. Meet the Swiss Family Somnambulists, a group so groggy they rolled into our Favorite Starbucks this morning wearing Bright Red 'Onesies' with built-in Santa Slippers. "Those onesies are very impractical," said Joyce, "especially if they need to use the toilet." "You're right," I replied, "There's no escape hatch in the rear end!" I, for one, hope they all ordered Bran Muffins. Meanwhile, the Pajama Girls -- not to be outdone -- made the scene, as usual, in matching plaid PJs with coordinated Ugg Boots. I wonder what they wear to bed at night, their school uniforms ...?