Wake me up when September ends

Back from vacation and tanner than ever. As predicted, the weather was perfect, the ocean was warm (But too full of marine life for my tastes--fishies have the whole ocean to inhabit; i don't eat them, the least they can do is refrain from nibbling on me a few feet from shore), and the livin' was easy. It was strange floating around without a care knowing how much destruction that same water had caused just a few days before a few hundred miles south...

Naturally, I'm more tired now than before I left. My extended weekend met the official vacation definition--time away from home or business--but does it really count when you spend 5 days out past 4 and up at 9 to meet the stringent (albeit self-imposed) party and beach-going regulations? The focal point of the weekend was the closing of Maloney's. As most of my readers know since I've probably dragged them all there at some point, this is my favorite bar ever. Open until 4 and always packed, the bar provided something for everyone, with an outdoor patio, a sing-along/oldies room, 3 contemporary dancing rooms, and reasonably priced drinks. And of course there was the bizarre clientele combination of preppy Main Liners, South Philly natives, and others ages 21-60, but that just made the atmosphere that much more friendly. You knew you'd either run into someone you knew (whether you liked it or not) or meet someone new. Some people may even have been known to go there alone and still have fun...
The salt in the wound is that it's being replaced by more million dollar condos. Margate used to be the place for young people to go, but after decades of development most of the bars are gone and, like the surrounding shore communities, it's becoming more and more filled with overpriced showhomes with owners who never even come down. Fortunately, the place went out with a bang during an all-day Labor Day block party (featuring those awesome Bud Light bottles). The street must have been filled with 10,000 people of all ages and backgrounds (my group alone included 2 entire families and friends ages 8-63) and even included Flyer Donald Brashear (which apparently was exciting, thoughI wouldn't have known if he bought me shots all night). Unfortunately, yet in truly appropriate Maloney's fashion, the night ended early around 9 when beers were thrown, shirtless Italians were carried out by bouncers, and every cop in the city descended and shut the place down. As usual, the entire crowd walked in a pack to another bar and I went home a few hours later to stuff my face. And in a final salute to my favorite bar, I fell down the stairs before going to bed, destroying my elbows and knees rather than landing on my hands in an effort to save the pieces of chicken I was holding. As my dad said, "Here I was worrying about you drinking and driving, and it turns out you can't even drink and walk." At least every time I try to bend my knee this week and the pain is too much, I'll think of my fond memories of Maloneys.