Backed against the Pacific, saddled with a slightly unsavory reputation left over from the 70s, cursed, or maybe blessed with limited auto access, Ocean Beach, a.k.a. "O.B.", exhibits symptoms of the frozen-in-time syndrome. Barnacle-like, it clings tenaciously to its quirky identity. Attitude-wise, O.B. is way cool. It may have the most social iconoclasts and ancient VW vans of any place around town, the fewest cellular phones and luxury sedans. No high-rises. No glitz. Not much chance of seeing a Gap or Starbucks anytime soon. Locals like it that way. Just an ocean, a tight-knit community, and a strong sense of SoCal beach-village funkiness.

Then there's the well-known Ocean Beach Farmers Market, a weekly scramble of erstwhile hippies, boomer yuppies, surfer dudes, beach rats, Gen-Xers, college kids, pink-kneed Midwest transplants and oldtimers who remember way back when Ocean Beach was ... well, pretty much the way it still is. The market is typical of what people say they love best about living in O.B.