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Kaare Askildt (that would be me) was born to his long-suffering parents in Norway, many, many years ago, long before the discovery of North Sea oil made Norwegians filthy stinking rich, and finally allowed them to gloat whenever in the company of Swedes. To make matters twice as bad for my mother and father, I was joined by my identical twin, Kjell.

Our parents gave as good as they got, fighting back by dressing us as girls, thinking this might tone down our “boyish exuberance”

Together we turned Norway on its ear. To this day I can scarcely believe the country survived. This may have had something to do with the fact our dad was a cop in Oslo, but I prefer to simply chalk it up to the indomitable Viking spirit, the national bravery that allowed Norwegians to survive centuries under the yoke of first Danish, then Swedish domination, the incredible collective courage that tied the occupying Nazis into knots, also allowed the nation to survive me and Kjell.

Barely.

After a less-than-illustrious stint as a draftee in the Royal Norwegian Air Force, I turned to the world of work, studied, married and immigrated to Canada…

Needless to say, Canada welcomed an immigrant as obviously dapper and sophisticated as I clearly was

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