The Last Hoorah!

Driven by anxiety of work return, I ventured up to Marquette, MI this weekend for the union of arguably the best kickball couple since Patches O’hullihan and Kate Veatch.

The ride up was pleasant…good views…good roads…and great pasties (I ate two within the first hour of crossing the bridge)!


When we finally arrived we were greeted by a family bar-b-que in progress with a kickball game to follow. This was quite fun but the real excitement began at Flannigan’s; Marquette’s premier Karaoke bar. This place was chalked full of Slack Jawed Marquette Local Yokels who piled into the hole in the wall once a week with dreams and aspirations of “getting discovered”.

I was fortunate enough to make some bride to be’s night. After consuming four beverages that rhymed with bager jombs…a full figured cast of bachelorette partiers (not affiliated with our party) piled in. Perhaps it was my lean physique, or my clean cut city look, or just the glimmer in my eye but as soon as this party walked in, one of the bride’s entourage became infatuated with the idea of me “making the brides night” by singing Marvin Gaye’s acclaimed hit “Let’s get it on” while I danced with her on stage. After getting Angela’s consent, I agreed to the proposal for the colossal fee of $17. I will let the pictures do the talking of where it went from there.




Shortly after the exhibition of provocative moves in the rawest form, my cousin and I kicked it VIP style as shots rang out like a bell and we busted out the best rendition of Ice Ice Baby Marquette had ever seen!


Angela even made a friend and won the fancy of a Marquette local!



In an effort to get further in touch with the roots of The Brother’s Chase, we had arranged to stay with the lovely Chase family Friday night. Shortly after stumbling into our accommodations around 3:30 am, I received a text message from Topher Chase himself reading: Riding at 9:00am…100 miles…be there.

The alarm seemed as if it had rang as soon as my head had hit the pillow. I clumsily arose and threw on some lycra and rolled out the door with nothing but my barley juice from the previous night as ride fuel. As I pedaled I knew this ride would not be pretty unless I got some kind of fuel in me…if not for fuel, at least to absorb some of last night’s liquids.

Although the first hour of the five hour ride was pure misery, the trip ended up being very scenic, detoxifying, and beautiful. Topher was a great guide and thankfully maintained a gentle pace as I rode my previous evenings toxins out.

That night we attended the wedding of Shannon Gleesing and Brian Bonsall. Their love was spawned on the kickball diamonds of Oak Park two years ago and had proven to be as strong as Bonsall’s throw from third to first. The ceremony was great…the reception was even better…and the DJ even gave me the Mic for a few songs to have another crack at some Karaoke.

We left the hall at 3:00 in the morning with a serious yearning for a Fourth Meal at good ole T-Bell.

The next morning we arose, drove back to the D and ate more pasties. After a double feature at the Stein Theatre, I settled into bed excited to race the Rock City Crit the next day.