Do birthdays matter? Not really. But they are, at the very least, an excuse to do something you might not usually do as a middle-aged father of two. On this most recent occasion, my birthday was a reason to drag an assortment of friendship flotsam across the Los Angeles coastline, working our way down through a selection of Southern California beach dive bars . (It also marks the second time I’ve used my assignments for Eater and Punch to rationalize, or maybe subsidize, a birthday bar crawl .) I truly believe that these old, salt-crusted pubs are an essential, last-remaining stronghold of our regional culture, and that they demand both our respect and our money.

This crawl took place on a Saturday in September, filled with drinks and snacks (but mostly bites of bar burgers), working our way from Santa Monica to Manhattan Beach before wandering inland for dinner in Torrance, home to some of the best Japanese food in the United States.

The plan was to start relatively early, enjoying as much sunlit ocean…