5 Comments

at least they didn't play Why, Why, Why Delilah 21 times!

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Or Surfing Bird by the Trashmen.

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The Salt & Pepper Diner has been my family's favorite John Mulaney routine forever. Great story. Even greater storytelling.

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Not a big fan of practical jokes or pranks. Tend to be short-lived and too easy for them to descend into acute embarrassment or even cruelty in one form or another, rather than amusement, for the subject or target. Although, I would allow as how I can see their value as a presumably non-violent form of quick retribution in the right hands. No, I prefer the elegance of a good hoax. Not your run-of-the-mill scam mind you, or "dirty trick;" these tend to be blunt instruments. More of a sophisticated scheme to get back at someone universally disliked (in an interest-based community) and for good reason. I was a perpetrator of one a number of moons ago that worked a treat, but ended in disappointment (at least for us miscreants behind the scheme). However, that's a tale to be submitted directly to Dear Leader, lest I suffer a textual tongue-lashing. So look for it in an upcoming "Q&A" --- or not.

One of my great favorites perpetrated by another --- although requiring less detailed planning and precise execution than it did simply a slight ring of authenticity (and wishful thinking by those gulled) --- was George Plimpton's April Fool's 1985 "Sports Illustrated" profile of one Hayden Siddhartha "Sidd" Finch, a previously unknown rookie pitcher in spring training in Florida with the NY Mets baseball team. Finch, Plimpton noted, had never played baseball before, and was torn between a sports career and one playing the French horn. The team scouting report purportedly gave the phenom a "9" for velocity and control on an 8-point scale. He also reportedly wore only one hiking boot when on the mound throwing 168 mph fastballs. The Mets played along with the hoax and even provided "Finch" (a friend of the SI photographer involved) with a uniform and number. It goes without saying that Mets' fans were ecstatic. NY sportswriters and editors far less so for being scooped by the magazine. Adding to the frisson of delight, a local Florida radio talk show host swore he had seen the amazing and fictitious Mr. Finch actually pitch. The then three major TV networks and a whole host of newspapers showed up for a press conference in Florida at which the faux flamethrower announced his retirement --- a legend before his first pitch ---instead, he said, choosing to "play the French horn or golf or something." Plimpton went on to expand the article into the book "The Curious Case of Sidd Finch" two years later.

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Pranks once were relief from reality; A glimpse into irrationality. Now? We are swamped with lies and madness. I get no pleasure from pranks. Or champagne.

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