April Fools

April Fools’ Day dates to 1582, with Pope Gregory XIII’s announcement of calendar reforms that would replace the Julian calendar, which incorrectly calculated the average solar year. The new Gregorian calendar moved the new year to January 1, rather than the Julian’s calendar’s spring equinox (around April 1), and people who refused to recognize January 1 as the start of the new year (mostly Protestants and Eastern Orthodox Christians) were called “April fools.” Today, the Gregorian calendar is used in most parts of the world. Clearly, the pope was much more of an “influencer” nearly 450 years ago than he is today.

This April Fools’ Day weekend found us reflecting on fools. Former President Donald Trump, for example, faces multiple charges of falsifying business records, including at least one felony offense, and is reportedly preparing to face reality next week. Meanwhile, a chipper-sounding Pope Francis was discharged Saturday from the Rome hospital where he was treated for bronchitis, quipping to journalists before being driven away that he’s “still alive.” Although no one’s fool, the pope nonetheless faced reality when, as he prepared to leave the hospital, comforted a Rome couple whose 5-year-old daughter died Friday night, holding the child’s mother close and whispering words of comfort.

On Saturday, we watched “The Devil Wears Prada,” the 2006 comedy-drama starring Meryl Streep as Miranda Priestly, a powerful fashion magazine editor, and Anne Hathaway as Andrea “Andy” Sachs, a college graduate who goes to New York City and lands a job as Miranda’s co-assistant. 

We revisited the film after Jon’s manager reminded him of Miranda’s withering reality check of Andrea’s fashion sense. Unfortunately, the film hasn’t worn well. Miranda’s downfall–arguably, her refusal to recognize reality, even among her most trusted colleagues–seems to be a common theme among the rich and famous.

So how do we avoid becoming April Fools? By keeping it real (whatever “real” may be).

Speaking of “real,” we really enjoyed our filet minion Omaha steaks on Date Night, although we didn’t care for the “potato au gratin” that accompanied it. On Saturday, Chef Cliff prepared a memorable “tomahawk” pork chop with sweet cob corn and ranch style beans, even though our dinner was accompanied by a rather unmemorable Grand Ole Opry performance.

Sunday found us departing quickly after brunch to avoid an approaching storm front. That’s a reality we’d rather not face, but we’d be foolish to deny.

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