The neighbors were complaining, it was getting late and even those at the party were looking at their watches, thinking it really had gone on longer than they expected and wondering how they could best make their excuses and leave. And then along came Tom Menino telling them it was time to go and so dutifully - and probably relieved that he gave them an out - most did. As I write this, the big, communal tents have been packed up. Only about 35 tents remain and even those are being disassembled. City sanitation workers are loading up the trash. A few will doubtless resist, eager to get arrested (as those from the ‘60s have found, it’s a great story to tell the grandchildren), but for all intents and purposes, the Occupation is over.