We’re only a few weekends away from the annual St. Clair Shores Punching Festival. It’s a great time of seasoned meats and pure aggression. We as a community store up most of our rage through the dark, cold months, then erupt every June in a fury of punches directed at abandoned cars, old furniture and civil servants.

Everyone is given a 12 hour pass by local law enforcement so long as nothing gets burned. And even then, if they do catch you torching a tool shed, the most the cops do is sucker punch you in the kidneys a few times and leave you in a heap.

It’s a great time and the local merchants love the extra foot traffic. Drive over or bring the boat if you can and we’ll bloody our knuckles against a bust of old St. Issac down at the abandoned Catholic church.

The festival underscores the severe, eternal truth of Southeast Michigan: There is no Escape.


About Chris Weagel

Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn’t. He can’t stand that shit.

No comments yet.

Leave a Reply