Beware the Ides of March

Slainté, a-holes.

The Clancy Brothers' Rising of the Moon and Jameson Stout Edition.

We've scaled back St. Patrick's Day substantially in recent years here at the Hough House. Gone are the days of our huge St. Patty's Parties, as they had grown to bloated and stressful to carry out following a morning/afternoon stint in Clare. Last year we realized we didn't need them anyway, as after celebrating the day in Clare - which has always felt more like St. Patrick's Day anyway - we didn't feel like doing much afterwards anyway.

My Morning Coffee, the St. Patrick's Day Edition. . . 

This year Mitch offered to pick up the torch, following last year's lack of after party, and we were totally on board with this. Once again, I had my usual morning routine of whiskey and vinyl followed by coffee and Simpsons while mu roommates were all still fast asleep in their beds, followed by some of us dads meeting up for breakfast (and Bloody Marys) at The Boulevard. From there, we set off for Clare, where we'd eventually run into wives and kids while bar-hopping around my hometown for a couple hours.

We returned to Midland around 4pm, with the Bos' new St. Patty's Day Party kicking off around 5pm. By that point, many of us were on our last legs anyway, and the entire affair was fairly low-key (everyone lacking the energy after a day of Irish revelry.) I'm guessing that next year we'll probably scale back Clare quite a bit as well, because, well, none of us are in our 20's anymore, and holy shit did it show.

It's hard to party all day long in your 40's, guys - let nobody tell you anything different.

So here you go, America - the Hough's 2025 St. Patrick's Day.

Behold. . . .

It wouldn't be a true St. Patrick's Day without a morning viewing of Homer vs. The 18th Amendment.

It was slim pickings for our Clare Expeditionary Force this year - only Rob was up for accompanying Erik and I out for our annual pilgrimage to Clare. We started things off with breakfast at The Boulevard at 9am - they ate, I had already eaten a sensible, healthy breakfast upon waking up.

Hands down, the best Bloody Mary in town.

Place was pretty busy, but that's to be expected - there's always a breakfast rush here.

Cruising down US-10, en route to Clare.

There had been quite a lot of rain in the morning, but fortunately it had already blown over by the time we finally got to Clare.

First stop of the day: the famous Doherty Hotel.

Green Busch Lite. At $6 for a 12 oz plastic cup, it way too pricey (for what it was), but that seemed to be the going rate for Irish Fest this year. The bars in town must've all held a council of some sort in order to set this price, it was the same everywhere we went today.

Heading down to the ol' Men's Bathroom. . . which hasn't changed in decades.

This weird gnome-ish mural outside the bathroom's egress window.

After a round at the Doherty, and with Kris, Courtney, and the girls still in Midland - we decided to head off towards another watering hole.

Next stop: Ruckle's.

There were only like eight other people in the bar by the time we got there. We weren't in Clare as early as we had been the year before, but early enough that crowds were still pretty sparse.

This decor was all brand new, I don't remember seeing it before.

Not sure if it comes out of the keg green or they dye it afterwards (I didn't bother to check.)

Kris and Courtney found us at Ruckle's when they finally arrived to Clare, and we accompanied them down a block or so for the opening of the annual Irish Fest Parade.

We finally got Courtney to attend an Irish Fest.

Me, Rob and Erik

Kris, Courtney, and the girls wanted to check out a craft show at my alma mater, Clare Primary School, so us dudes decided to head down to Bob's Lounge (or whatever the hell we're calling it these days.)

I really want one of these signs. Maybe not Coors Light. I hate Coors Light.

This place was slightly more busy than Ruckle's, but it was obvious that the main crowds hadn't shown up yet.

While we were hanging out in there drinking green beer, a corps of pipe-and-drums waltzed in and played a few standards.

This is the same group that we saw last year, from Midland, that eventually made their way over to Three Bridges by the end of the night.

Enjoying the show.

After the pipers left, we decided to check out another spot. It was starting to get busier downtown as the morning dragged on.

Good call on the town for setting these bad boys out.

Checking back in with the fam at the parade route (the parade hadn't started quite yet, but was about to any minute.)

They had all hit up the food trucks while waiting for the parade to start.

Kris' mom, along with her aunt Mickey, Kyan, and Julian, had all turned up for the parade as well.

The parade begins. . .

The Johnsons

Who wouldn't bring a dog to a parade?

While the parade rolled on, we decided to duck back into the Doherty for another round.

We talked the bartender into giving us green Guinness this time around. Not as prolific, but it worked.

Erik and I at the bar.

One of these days I'm gonna head back down into those back passageways and snoop around - I haven't done that since the late 90's probably.

Upstairs in the lobby.

The last few years they've had the downtown area blocked off with barricades, which is a hell of a lot nicer than having to weave in and out of passing traffic.

Crowds thickening up as we roll into the afternoon.

Ran into Brad's friend - forget his name - who was dressed up as St. Patrick.

Managed to get a pic of the girls with this leprechaun statue that's been a staple of Irish Fest for the last few years.

Our last bar stop of Irish Fest was the downstairs speak easy joint called The Trap Door.

Managed to get a table pretty quickly down here - this one's kinda off the beaten track.

Perusing the menu. Rob and Erik ended up getting whiskey here, but I stuck with water.

VIP section.

Very rustic looking bathrooms here.

Erik ordered a few apps, but with all the green beer sloshing around my belly I didn't really feel like eating.

After they wrapped up their drinks, we made our way back to the truck to head back.

On our drive back to Midland, we stopped off in the metropolis of Loomis for one, last detour.

This hole-in-the-wall, dive bar was also slinging green beer.

I watche a SuperBowl here back in 2006 - the one and only time I had ever been in this craphole.

When we got back to Midland, we had like 45 minutes of downtime before we had to be over at the Bos' house. Kris put together this fruit tray for the evening's event.

Mitch's custom menu for the party, which was initially supposed to have a bar-hopping theme, but this was scrapped as folks' motivation tanked.

Arriving at Mitch's, I saw this sign Mitch had affixed to his outdoor gazebo (not sure if he had the sign custom made, or else just saw this sign online and decided to name the gazebo after it.) Either way, pretty cool.

Erik makes friends with Mtich's dogs.

Kris and Courtney

Courtney, Lori, Kris and Erik (and of course Charlie, who loves when folks comes over.)

Mees brought over their new puppy so they could hang out with the Bos' new puppy (they came from the same litter.)

As always, the dads kinda hung around this table all evening. Left to Right: Lonnie, Steven, Tom, and Cory.

Grazing, as always.

Wouldn't be a St. Pat's shin-dig without Irish Car Bombs.

Me and Mitch.

These two are probably talking Disney right here.

Another round. 'Cause why not.

These things always look disgusting afterwards.

Tom gets handsy after a few drinks. We're all used to it by now.

The girls got bored after barely any time at all at the Bos' place, and so Alayna took them out in her car (probably to Taco Bell, knowing her.)

Some SportsBall game was on, but I don't think anyone was really watching it (I wasn't, at any rate.)

Rob began giving all the wives scalp massages as the night dragged on. That was hilarious.

Lonnie enjoys his foo-foo drinks.

Mees gets her scalp rubbed. Whether she likes it or not.

Dancing to Irish music - courtesy of one of my St. Pat's playlists - out in the gazebo.

Chowing down on the spread in the kitchen. Kris and I left around 9:30pm, as I was about ready to throw in the towel after twelve-plus hours or revelry, and some folks were getting out of hand already. All in all, it was yet another great St. Patrick's Day for the books, but I think next year we'll start in Clare later - that was a lot of adventuring for one day.

 - Brian