Boozy Dewey Beach Peers Into Its Future

Cooke liked that the officer was keeping an eye on things, not overreacting; Cooke said that is his approach on his walks through town. He listened for noise levels -- the rapper 50 Cent thumping on one block, crickets rasping on another. This past year, commissioners pushed for noise limits, and bars invested in soundproofing. (They also give something back to the community, said Starboard owner Steve Montgomery, who donated more than $20,000 this year.)

Cooke said he thinks most of the problems, such as the car that was left outside his house and got covered with crazy foam, are solvable. "People with grudges get over them, end up having a beer together."

At home the next day with flowers blooming behind a picket fence, Riordan opened a can of beer and explained: He doesn't want to turn Dewey into a retirement community. He does want to give control back to homeowners.

He started vacationing in Dewey because it was affordable, a nice beach. He and his wife retired here recently and take in animals: They have 11 adult cats, seven kittens and two dogs. "If we had all these cats in Rehoboth," he said, "we'd probably have neighbors complaining to the town."

Dewey's laid-back style is great, he said, "until someone comes along and, because of the greed factor, starts abusing it."

He fought a bid by the Bottle & Cork to expand. And when he disagreed with votes, including one that would allow certain motels to convert to condos -- decisions he said would be harmful to the town but worth a ton of money to Highway One -- he offered to represent citizens suing the town. Both cases were dismissed. Dewey spent $26,000 on legal fees in 2005.

It's ridiculous, Baeurle said; in the past few years Riordan has tried to chip away at the businesses in any way he could. More than 50 businesses put up "Save Dewey" posters calling for a new mayor.

Riordan said that before he came to Dewey, Highway One was able to manipulate commissioners to ensure huge profits. "I've paid the price, believe me," he added. "I'm anathema. I'm a . . . social outcast."

". . . We should have less drunkenness, less alcohol consumption, less unruly behavior, [and] so fewer police," he said. "I think a lot of people feel that way. We'll find out." He opened his hand, the beer can crushed in his palm.