I ventured out, moustachioed, into the wilds of Guilford complete with my inmate number for easy identification.
Along with brother Dan as a clown, no tears for this one, and brother Bob with some inappropriate cultural appropriation upon which I won’t comment upon further, we would rampage through Guilford Mews condos using pillowcases instead of plastic sacks to collect the trick or treat bounty.
Oh those notorious Olson boys, always up to no good, they make the Duke boys look like saints. This time it’s Dan headed to the brig while I strike my best rockstar pose – indeed my true calling if it wasn’t those pesky musical instruments.
My iteration was a mix of my uncle Randy Bachman and a bit of Elvis who had died on my recent seventh birthday. Hey glasses, big hair, bellbottoms with pom-poms and platform shoes… But oh that pose! Simply says, “I know you’re looking but I don’t care – i’m just here to rock”