April Fools Day is a special time of year. It’s one day out of several hundred when people seem to try a little harder to put aside their differences, lock arms with their fellow man, and sing meaningful and uplifting folk songs from the 70’s. It’s a welcome relief from the pushing and shoving that occurs the rest of the year, as people selfishly just go about their own routines with little care for anyone else around them. Selfish routines that are also sadly devoid of any 70’s musical fare (except for maybe “Rock & Roll Band” by Boston, because really that’s an all-purpose song for any time of year).
Ahhh yes, April Fools Day. It always reminds me of growing up with my seventeen brothers and sister (the law limited families to only one female offspring back in those days) near our farm in lower Manhattan. It wasn’t exactly our farm. Actually it wasn’t a farm at all, more of a produce aisle at a market near our house. It wasn’t really even our house… I’m getting a little sidetracked, but the point is that I did grow up, and April Fools Day occurred during that time. And we loved it!
Because we didn’t have much money, we weren’t able to celebrate as extravagantly as our neighbors. While everyone else pulled out their fancy strings of lights, put on the new April Fools fashion wear from J.C. Penny’s and went caroling door-to-door singing their favorite 70’s folk songs (because let’s be honest, who doesn’t have some favorites!), we had to be creative and make our own fun. There were no presents under the tree or lavish meals, but we were rich in other ways. At least that’s what Grandpa kept telling us.
“Kids, we’re rich in other ways,” he would begin. “Because we have stories. Would you youngsters like to hear the story of how April Fools Day began?” This was the ritual I remember most fondly. On cue, all twenty-six of us, cousins and all, would start jumping up and down excitedly in our footed hand-me-down pajamas, squealing with glee, things like “Goodie!” and “Yippee!” and “Zoltan!”
“Now we don’t have to go all into it if you’ve heard it before. I don’t want to be one of those old-timers that bores the young’uns with his rambling,” he would modestly say with a wink, knowing full well that all of us whippersnappers wanted nothing more than to hear it again. Not only would not telling it break tradition, but it… well, it just wouldn’t be April Fools Day without it.
“Oh, Grandpa, please tell us the story!” I exclaimed, still jumping up and down.
“Yes, Grampy-Gramps, do the stories! Tell ‘em good!” my one sister added.
“Please do tell that same old story, Sid. We would all love nothing more than to hear it again this year,” my Aunt Vera said sarcastically, before putting her cigarette out on my cousin Ronnie’s arm and telling him to fetch mommy some more scotch.
“Well, Ok.” Grandpa grinned widely, as if to warm up his face for the story to follow. “Gather round and hear the tale of April Fools.” At this, all twenty-six kids climbed onto his lap and settled in for a tale as tall as Grandma’s hairdo after a generous dousing of AquaNet.
He began, “The story goes something like this”…
Comment
