First Of April --Sneeze Alert

When did April Fools Day begin? Some say it precedes the Roman Empire, but I am a strict historian and declare the year still under discussion. The month, however, I have, through exhaustive research, pinned down to April. Earliest record connecting 1st April and foolishness is in Chaucer's, The Canterbury Tales, not the volume that appeared in 1392 , but the earlier "scratch and sniff" edition (to which some are allergic). It's in the pumphouse somewhere, along with other enigmatic curiosities of the Geo.archive. Achoo:

"You've been in the pumphouse. I smell it."
"Norma, it's the only place I can keep my archive protected and orderly."
"Orderly? You never clean out there."
"Any disturbance to my filing system would throw history into chaos."
"But that box has an inch of dust on it!"
"Precisely an inch? That would be May of '96. Can you photograph a few slides?"
"Only a few, before I start sneezing. This one first?"
"Please."

"Ewww, he's holding a dead cat."
"Shhh, this is where the essay begins!"
"I'll photo the others now...achoo!"

Now, to begin this scholarly essay in an academically acceptable manner, I shall say soberly, Ewww, He's holding a dead cat. The delivery boy has apparently introduced, into this 19th century home, an enigma. Father is puzzled. Mother and daughter share a giddy secret --they have perpetrated an April Fool joke, a crude one requiring much preparation, sadism and some expense. The scene does not pleasantly reward further speculation. Let's proceed to the next.

The party has got out of hand. Mr. Bottomley gets quarrelsome. Someone has swooned on the swooning couch. A footstool has overturned! Doubtless a constable will be summoned and there will be ructions, I tell you, ructions! Bottomley will be branded an ass. But Miss Longshanks' heroic brother will prosper, live long and someday sing basso in Peter, Paul and Mary. Let us proceed:

It is evident that a favorite female parlor pastime was painting the faces of men who had fallen asleep.

It is a recreation that, considering my own meditation habits, I am glad has passed from vogue. Some follies were not so gentle:

Consider the angry father ready to throttle the hired boy who climbs a sawbuck to give the daughter a kiss --recreating perhaps a folly from the old man's own youth. Ah, fathers, affectionately called Dad or Poppa, Pa or any variation consistent with the word left off the next view:

"Snores just like..." We can, as can every family that bought a copy of this card, readily furnish a name to complete the caption, much to everyone's delight except Pa, who falls asleep in church, and feels pleasantly foolish in the fun. April Fool is a celebration, not of our immunity from folly, but our survival under its influence.

Sometime during his long and productive life, Herbert Spencer wrote, "The ultimate effect of shielding men from folly is to fill the world with fools."  It would seem that process is always underway. It is a source of measureless comfort to us men everywhere, everywhen. 

On the behalf of my gender and our species, I wish all humanity a happy April Fools' Day!

3/31? Close enough.

"Achoo!"