I was gonna do the usual this October 31st – disable the doorbell, sit way inside my house, lights off, fire roaring, a little Mendelssohn playing in the background – when I realized how possibly short-sighted I’ve been all these years.
After all, I could wear a costume – not a Freddy or an Elvis (although the latter’s tempting), but a Sherlock Holmes, a Bogart or an Indiana Jones. Any instantly recognizable character, real or fictional (even if the kids don’t know his name), whose signature look is made by his hat.
Now this is gonna be a TREAT.
Thanks for reading,
CEO Hartford York
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