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 ...  

WARDROBE MALFUNCTION ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

The ball at Times Square isn't the only thing dropping today, and if you don't believe me, just ask Señior Droopy, an anonymous newcomer who lowered the boom at 7th and Montana this morning with a surprising Wardrobe Malfunction.  One minute he was schlumping his way passed the espresso machine, wearing the kind of loose-fitting pants that never seem to go out of style these days, and the next -- "wham!" -- his pants fell to the floor exposing his underwear for all to see.  "There's something you don't see every day," I said, quietly whipping out my Spycam.  Señior Droopy, for his part, took the incident in stride.  He kept walking towards the condiments bar as if nothing had happened, dragging his pants behind him.  I'll say one thing, if anyone deserves to ring in the New Year with a couple of belts, it's him ...!

MEET THE MUGGLES ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Eyes were popping yesterday at 7th and Montana as a tourist couple spent nearly 30-minutes examining every mug on display at Our Favorite Starbucks.  They didn't buy anything, not even a cup of coffee.  They just scrutinized each and every mug in the store at length.  I couldn't understand their conversation (I think they were from India), but my guess is that it was a nearly endless loop that went something like this:

Husband:  Ahhh, here is an interesting mug.
Wife:  Let me see.  No.  It's all wrong.  I don't want anything that has the Starbucks logo on it.  That would be tasteless.
Husband:  OK, let's look at this one, instead.

I don't know what prompted them to finally leave.  Maybe their cup runneth overtime ...?

HARMONICAT ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA!

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the Mew-sick Man, a local Hep Cat who has been walking around the neighborhood all week blasting out tunes on his harmonica and sounding a lot like a cat in heat.  "Sheesh," said Kathy, "He must have got that harmonica for Christmas."  Indeed, no one would accuse him of having owned it for any length of time.  It was attached to his neck via a metallic clip, the kind professionals use to hold the instrument in place while they sing.  And while he wasn't exactly singing, he could be heard belting-out two words to passersby at three-minute intervals:  "Foxxxxxy Lady!"  All I can say is, if this was his Christmas gift, I wish Santa had brought the rest of us ear plugs!