Snobbin: Beautiful Trash in the Pop Culture Gutter

Another year, another April Fools' Day, and I haven't played a joke or had one played on me. In fact, it's been years since someone has fooled me and even longer since I've been fooled. I guess traditions are made to be broken, and I'll now almost certainly fall for something later today. April Fools' Day is one of those holidays that has apparently gained more cultural cachet with the increasing prominence of social networking. Post after post on my timeline has paid some lip service to the time honored tradition of fooling one's friends, family, and acquaintances. Fake news stories find a ready audience on Facebook and twitter. Although not as ubiqitous as yesterday's opening day baseball posts, there is still something about April Fools' Day that resonates in the national (and international) zeitgeist. A day to drop all the stress and drama in order innocently fool our peers appeals to the embittered psyche. If it happened on the opening day...

I have a special affinity for limericks, perhaps because my grandfather was always reciting his favorite. He tended toward the whimsical, telling tall tales, reciting jokes, and attempting to scare me with made up stories about a monster that only killed fools known as the Flowage Fool Killer. I can only count a handful of times that I was scared as a child. The Fool Killer is undoubtedly the top scariest childhood memory I have. I recall several other instances. A man was knocking on the door in the middle of the night and I awoke scared. Apparently, he worked with my dad and wanted to stay at our house. My father didn't know him too well and sent him on his way. There was also a country road that I remember riding down with a sign proclaiming "Beware of the Fritz;" I never knew what the Fritz was, but it still haunts my dreams. I imagine now that it was a vicious terrier with a thirst for human blood and a penchant for melodrama. Being lost in East St. Louis with my f...