Back in high school, Nick Hammond used to get into prank wars with his friends around April Fools’ Day.
He sustained ferocious attacks. Glitter in the shampoo. Glitter, also, in the air-conditioning vents of his car. Even bouillon cubes in his shower head.
“I smelled like meat until, well, until I figured it out,” Hammond said.
Now 27, Hammond works in a place where pranks are frowned on — a casino. Still, he enjoys April Fools’ Day.
“It’s silly, it’s fun,” he said. “There’s only so many days you can screw around with people, and everyone has a sense of humor about it.”
Like an absurd joke, the holiday itself — today — has uncertain origins.
It may trace back to the Roman feast of Hilaria, a celebration for the resurrected god Attis. It could relate to wild spring weather, as Mother Nature plays her tricks. Or it could tie into Holi, a Hindu festival during which people throw colored water on each other. All fall around April 1.
Then again, it could tie back to France. Supposedly, in the 1500s, some Frenchmen resisted moving New Year’s Day from April 1 to Jan. 1. The people supporting the status quo were dubbed “April fish” — nobody’s quite sure why — and got pranked.
April fish weren’t the only ones with odd nicknames; they were joined by the gowks in Scotland. The gowk, or cuckoo bird, was a symbol of simpletons, making it a fit for April fools.
Widespread observance of the day seems to have begun in the 1700s in Britain. From there, it migrated to America, where it’s still practiced today by people like, say, Addie Lazenby, who works in Everett.
Lazenby, 25, calls herself a “joker year-round,” the type of person who uses April Fools’ to get away with pranks she would pull anyway.
Take last year: For the holiday, Lazenby deleted a co-worker from the computer system at Hot Topic in the Everett Mall, making the co-worker believe she was fired. Everyone had a good laugh, even the co-worker a couple of hours later when she realized she still had a job.
Lazenby has a few ideas cooking for today. She may fill a neighbor’s apartment with confetti or spray paint a friend’s black car pink.
“She spray paints her car anyway,” Lazenby said.
Russ Lason, who lives and works in Snohomish County, deployed some spray paint himself last April 1.
At his job, the company trucks go through inspections around the holiday. He took a can and vandalized a co-worker’s vehicle. It seemed like the co-worker was in trouble.
“It was his third write-up,” Lason said with a smile. “He was getting suspended for two weeks.”
Of course, not really. Lason, 21, conspired with the inspectors. The spray paint wasn’t permanent; it wiped off. No one got suspended. Everyone laughed.
Lason, also a fan of the Saran-wrapped toilet stunt, enjoys the holiday for its “randomness.”
“You almost can’t believe someone on that day,” he said.
Granted, for a hard-line prankster, suspicion can be bad. If someone is prepared for a joke, it might fall flat.
“It’s a little too obvious,” said Chris Rangel of Lynnwood. “All the best pranks are away from April Fools’, when people aren’t looking for it.”
Reporter Andy Rathbun: 425-339-3455 or e-mail arathbun@heraldnet.com
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