A great piece in the Times, and this fantastic prose:

There had been the porch parties at Sue and John Notte’s, who no longer have a porch or much else, and barbecues at Uncle Mike’s or Bobalu’s. The coming-of-age moment for all children was when they were allowed to go to Barnacle Bill’s arcade and miniature golf on their own. It certainly was not the hormonal roundelay of Snooki et al. in Seaside Heights just to the south, but then it was not entirely different either — an unpretentious, seaside oasis of bonhomie, beer and sunblock based on the proposition that sometimes middle-aged folk just want to have fun, too.