Twenty-Twenty-Twenty Four Hours To Go, the Target's notes.

"Just put me in a wheelchair, get me to the show.  Hurry hurry hurry before I go loco.  I can't control my fingers, I can't control my toes.  Oh no no no no no..."                        I Wanna be Sedated, The Ramones.   Castles, 7/16/2014

   Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock...Do ya hear it?  It's the summer speeding past us.  Officially 1/2 over.  And, with the recent death of Ramones drummer and producer Tommy Ramone, we must celebrate his life and rage against normality and grab at some summer ass as it races away just as Tommy chased the beat. Just as the Ramones would bring the head-bangin' music to the streets, we've been bangin' our heads against the sand seeking the same ultimate stoke.  But, the sun is setting just a bit earlier with each passing week, gone before 8:30 now.  Once an opportunity easily within our reach, is fading fast.
   The Wattman has been incognito over the last couple of weeks, thus I have been forced to check out promise as yet unfulfilled.  The Longboard Cafe, Martin Fish House, OCM Crab.  A crew is always more than one, so no record survives.  A recollection in the mist.  However, this past week, Wattman returned.  A downtown Journey in the works.  Castle in the Sand on 38th.  OC's point. With the recent thunderstorms clearing out, the afternoon promised thigh to waist high, clean sets.  The surf report got it right this time.  The beach was busy, the lineup was packed.  Young spongers crowded the impact zone.  Yet, the Watt had patience and was able to pick waves that avoided the inevitable drop-ins and squeeze thru some noteworthy rides.  As dusk settled and the line-up thinned, Wattman slid down a glassy green frontside wall pulling up into a not so elegant faceplant to finish the evening. We had places to go, beers to quaff.
   Beer, crabs, seafood, wings.  Where else?  The Mug & Mallet on 2nd and the boards.  Any upstanding dive starts with steps down into a dark feeding den. A below boards deck with row after row of benches replete with mounds of Maryland Blue Crabs, where tourons congregate like wolves at feeding time.  Fine with us.  Left the bar practically empty.  A bright (overly), overhauled, whitewashed bar area.  Where is our dark, dank bar?  Old timbers engraved with decades of names now gone. Hanging bras removed. Guess they needed to upgrade the Mug to meet Code.  We do not inquire, for it is too late anyways, and we need that brew.  A couple of standard local crafts and the usual domestics.  A Natty Boh in a frosted mug rimmed with Old Bay.  At a buck fifty, how can you go wrong?

We order up the Zesty BBQ Wings and a Yellow Fin Tuna Steak Sandwich. Food comes quick.  Musta' upgraded that broom closet kitchen as well. The wings were very good.  Just a hint of heat and good BBQ flavor.  The Tuna was cooked perfect, but lacked zing.  No garnish, just chips.  With no music to hold us in our seats (even the TV's were turned down...why?), we took leave.  As we scanned the boardwalk in both directs we realize, there are still a few dives out there ready to be discovered. This is what we do. This is The Journey.

THE RATINGS - 

Zesty BBQ Wings: B+

Tuna Steak Sandwich: B-

Beer: B-

Atmosphere: C

Overall Rating = 2.69