All the World's a Stage

Backstory: My Life in Fur

Recently, the Medium publication C(G) SNAPSHOTS issued a challenge in which participants were invited to submit images for their Snapshot Selfie Challenge. Being the camera-phobe that I am — no, really; until recently your truly used the same avatar across all social media for almost six years (don’t judge) — I opted to submit a snapshot of a few mementos that signified different periods of my life. Oddly enough, one object in my snapshot that garnered a few comments was a vintage Donald Duck bobblehead from the late 1960s or early 1970s, described in the accompanying text as: symbol of my former alter-ego, vehicle of torture, and self-discovery — let’s talk about that some time.

Well … the time has come.

We all have backstories; adventures and foibles few would believe the people we are now would ever be a party to. So in the interest of mixing it up a little and unpacking one such story here. Enjoy!*

Race

Blue Sky Theory: What If Instead of Not That

Photo by Thomas Kelley on Unsplash

Disney Imagineering is the company’s think-tank full of super-creative designers, storytellers, and engineers who dream up theme parks, resorts, and attractions. All projects go through a crucible of development phases before they’re deemed ready for the public. During the first phase, everyone is encouraged to think outside the box and develop ideas that know no bounds. This phase has been dubbed the Blue Sky phase.

Excerpt: Walking Tall

Guatemala’s Forgotten Children

Image from http://www.showthestory.com/2012/06/01/god-bless-children-orphanage-guatemala-city/

The most challenging thing about being Donald Duck was that it was the only costume people my height were approved to do. Knowing there was no variety costumes worn and that everyday neverending throngs of adoring fans awaited their favorite Duck made it hard for me to go in and face the day. On many a day.

The Bigger Picture

What the Space Shuttle Challenger Disaster Taught Me About Facing Challenges

I can tell you exactly where I was thirty years ago today with absolute certainty. January 28, 1986, at about 11:30 a.m., I was giving autographs and taking photographs with tourists in front of the Train Station at the entrance to the Walt Disney World Magic Kingdom in Florida. The air felt unusually cold that against my legs, but the rest of me felt toasty warm thanks to the Donald Duck costume I wore. The two pairs of yellow-orange duck tights afforded my legs no protection from the unusual cold snap that gripped the state.