By Stephen DeAngelis
Caution is always the word of the day on this unofficial holiday. After all, nobody wants to be the “fool” for which the day is named. Even the smartest of us can be taken in. Back in 1983, a Boston University history professor named Joseph Boskin was contacted by the university’s public relations department and asked if it could “pitch him, a historian and a purveyor of popular culture, as an expert on the history of April Fools’ Day?”[1] Boskin, an academic who appreciated a good laugh, readily agreed. Later that week, Boskin headed to Los Angeles to meet with director Norman Lear. The professor planned to write a history of Lear’s series “All in the Family.” While in LA, the university’s public relations department called and asked him to talk to a reporter from the Associated Press. As requested, Boskin called the young reporter. The AP reporter, believing Boskin was, in fact, an April Fools’ Day expert, asked him about the holiday’s origins. Boskin told the reporter, “I don’t know anything about the holiday, and I really can’t be of help to you.” The incredulous reporter, still believing Boskin to be an expert on the subject, continued to press him for details. Not wanting to disappoint, Boskin reports, “I created a story.” This is the story he concocted:
“[The Emperor] Constantine — known for moving the empire’s capital to his eponymous city and for converting to Christianity — was an extraordinary thinker. He hired the best wits in the empire to be his court jesters, so he could joust with them intellectually, no holds barred. One of Constantine’s favorite fools — possibly named Kugel, or possibly just called that — told the emperor of the world’s then-most powerful empire that a lowly court jester could do a better job running the empire, and that he only needed one day to prove it. The day this claim was made must have been March 31st, but that date could have corresponded to our March 21st, given the inaccuracies of the Julian calendar (it would make sense, given that special feasts with entertainment generally accompanied the equinox and the fool might have been present there). Constantine, amused, granted Kugel his request and made him emperor for a day the following morning. The fool brought smiles to everyone’s faces as he ordered them to dance around in silly fashions and serve food to their servants instead of the other way around. Constantine so enjoyed the uncharacteristic role reversal, that he celebrated in style with Kugel every year for the next decade. Sadly, Kugel was one of the oldest fools in the court, and when he died, no one had the heart to continue. But the lesson of not taking ourselves too seriously was learned.”[2]
To make his story more convincing, Boskin added, “In a way, it was a very serious day. In those times fools were really wise men. It was the role of jesters to put things in perspective with humor.” Throughout the telling of the tale, Boskin assumed the reporter was in on the joke. He recalls, “Since I was calling New York, where kugel is famous, and it was April Fools’ Day, I figured he would catch on.” For those unfamiliar with the kugel, Wikipedia explains, “Kugel is a baked casserole, most commonly made from lokshen or potato. It is a traditional Ashkenazi Jewish dish, often served on Shabbos and Jewish holidays. American Jews also serve it for Thanksgiving dinner.” Journalist Robin Berghaus reports, “One of Boskin’s closest friends had always loved the Jewish noodle pudding kugel. That popped into his head, and he decided to tell a story about a jester who became king — King Kugel. One of Boskin’s fields was medieval history, so he concocted a convincing tale.”[3]
Not only did the young reporter never catch on to the joke, he published his story — which was picked up by newspapers across the country. Berghaus reports, “When AP published the story, Boskin got calls from the Today Show and other reputable news outlets asking him to go into more detail about the origins of King Kugel. Back at BU, Boskin used the amusing scenario to show students in his Media and Social Change class how the media can suddenly pick up on a joke, a rumor, an innuendo, or a story and regard it as authentic. No matter what you hear, you must question, Boskin reminded his students. Unbeknownst to him, the editor of the Daily Free Press was in his class. The next day, the Freep ran the headline, ‘Professor Fools AP.'”
When the staff at the Associated Press learned they had been duped, Boskin says, “The AP had a huge conniption. … I got an immediate phone call from an editor there, who was furious, saying that I had ruined the career of a young reporter. He said I told a lie. ‘A lie?’ I asked, ‘I was telling an April Fools’ Day story.’ The AP always, always checks on stories and for some reason this one fell through the cracks. It was their fault for not checking the story, and I embarrassed them. But I mean, really — kugel? What reporter from New York doesn’t know what that is?” The AP had to admit its error and ran a correction.
Berghaus reports, “Fortunately for everyone, this April Fools’ story has a happy ending. Boskin’s prank did not ruin a young journalist’s career. Unintentionally, it might even have provided a little true-life case study for a wonderful teacher, because that young AP reporter was Fred Bayles, [who became a professor of journalism at Boston University].” Bayles, who is a self-described “Overconfident Know it All,” told Berghaus, “Be very, very wary of what someone, particularly someone talking about April Fools’ Day, tells you. It also illustrates a professor’s responsibility not to screw around with someone’s career — and the integrity of a university.”
Boskin and King Kugel provide a cautionary tale for April Fools’ Day and every other day. Although there are genuine competing theories for the origins of April Fools’ Day, one of my favorites is the Greco-Roman festival called Hilaria. Journalist Ashley Ross writes, “One possible precedent is in the Greco-Roman festival called Hilaria, which was celebrated on March 25. The festival honored Cybele, an ancient Greek Mother of Gods, and its celebrations included parades, masquerades and jokes to celebrate the first day after the vernal equinox.”[4] If this is not the origin of April Fools’ Day, at least you know where the words hilarity and hilarious originated. I hope you find something hilarious during this unofficial holiday of pranks.
Footnotes
[1] Robin Berghaus, “How a BU Prof April-Fooled the Country,” BU Today, 1 April 2009.
[2] Alex Kravitz, “Why April 1st? The Politics Behind April Fool’s,” Berkeley Political Review, 1 April 2013.
[3] Berghaus, op. cit.
[4] Ashley Ross, “No Kidding: We Have No Idea How April Fools’ Day Started,” Time, 1 April 2019.
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