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.