I can't say that I am any more foolish on April 1 than on any other day of the year, in any prior year of my life.  I am still prone to the incautious comment, venting of frustration, error of calculation, hasty or heartless judgments.  I'd like to think those do not occur nearly so often, or not so grievously...but it could be I'm fooling myself.  It does seem that the offenses, perceived or real, of the distant past are more vivid than ever.  Those tend to resurrect at odd and unpredictable moments, searing through my brain and kicking me in the stomach.  And they tend to cluster, to tag team, in roller derby fashion...hitting me with a succession of punches that take my breath away. And then I think, after all this time, the parties involved have long since forgotten, or at least forgiven...the foolishness, and the fool. But I haven't. I suppose that's foolish.