Best April Fools Ever

No joke, folks! Today’s very non-diet-, non- food-related post is brought to you by the book Why Your Last Diet Failed You and How This Book Won’t Help You on Your Next One.

For the dedicated readers of this blog, I think you know what to expect out of this book. If you’re new here, all I can say is, it’s not a diet book. If I had to sum it up in a single word, it’d be: pickle.

What’s “pickle” have to do with the book? Nothing, but you did force me to pick a single word.

Once I left home for college, I immediately joined a fraternity. I’m not quite sure what compelled me, but I’m glad I did. And you’ll be glad too, once you finish reading this story.

Although some of the rooms in the house were fit for sleeping, the vast majority of us slept in large dorm rooms. There were three main dorms, one per floor, and each one was stocked with six to eight bunk beds. The outer doors (leading to the fire escape) typically swung in the breeze and the windows were kept open year round. Yes, it got down to zero in there from time to time, but that’s what hats and electric blankets were for. I kinda miss it, to be truthful.

Anyway, the main door to each room was fitted with eye hooks and each occupant had a name tag. You hung your tag on the hook corresponding to the time you wanted to wake up: hooks at half hour increments between 6:30 am and 9:00 am. Wake-up duty was rotated amongst the pledges. It was not a bad system.

On an April First, twentysomething years ago, it was Dean’s turn to wake everyone up. He didn’t begin his shift at 6:30. No, Dean began around five in the morning. You see, Dean had a plan.

Dean got up and found the clock in the kitchen and set it ahead one hour. He then found the clock in the living room and set it ahead one hour too. Soon, all the clocks in the common areas were now one hour fast. But that wasn’t enough. He went into the dorms and set personal alarm clocks ahead. He went into rooms and set those clocks ahead too. He even went into people’s desks and set their watches ahead. He even managed to get to a few watches on some sleeping victims.

Then, at 5:30, he began wake-up duty.

“It’s 6:30,” he told the first few early risers. They got up, rubbed their eyes, and went about their business. A half hour later, “It’s 7:00! Rise and shine!” Those guys got up, stumbled out of the dorms, and got breakfast. Another half hour after that, “7:30, boys! Time to get up!”

I got up at eight to make it to my nine o’clock class. I went to my room and found my wristwatch in a drawer. It said 7:00 am. “Hmmm,” I thought to myself. “Must have stopped again.” I put it on and checked other clocks. They all said eight. It must be eight. I walked by Pete’s room. He was wondering why his favorite morning show was an hour behind schedule. I showered, dressed, and had breakfast. Something felt … weird … but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Around quarter to nine, I headed off to campus.

I hadn’t gone fifty yards when Tom was walking back towards the house. Finally convinced something was truly amiss, I said, “Okay, Tom. What time is it?” He just laughed. “You’re not crazy. It’s not even eight o’clock yet,” he said. “Dean got us. He got us all.”

Yes he did. Pulled the wool over fifty pairs of eyeballs that morning, he did. I was amazed, not so much at the thoroughness and sophistication of his prank, but how easy it was for everyone to fall for it. Even with blatant evidence to the contrary, whatever time we believed it was when we woke up: that was the “right” time.

I don’t know where you are today Dean, but I tip my hat to you again. I also hope someone woke you up an hour early this morning. You deserve it.