Reporting in from Disneyland - the Mouse's Brand

So here I am at the Disneyland Marriott, well Walt would never call it that, but the rest of the world would. I got in here about three hours ago. Our rooms weren't ready so I joined up with a couple of other DC Lambda Squares dancers, and we walked down Mickey's Main Street. It's a big deal, 50 years and counting.

We stopped in at a Disney store, merchandise central. It's full of delightful schlock of questionable quality and very high prices. I know, I shouldn't be surprised. This is the store that people go to, to buy gifts for Uncle Bill and Cousin Milly. The stuff is so tacky and weird that you actually have to ask the friendly mouse associates what some of the stuff is. Very strange, and most of it is made in China. It has a foreign edge to it, as in Alien or Predator.

We were out in the sun too much, and I got a little burned. I'm in my room now recovering from my consumerist experience. I bought a mini-Minnie backpack. It's cute, and it goes with my Goofy hat. It brings on a creepily innocent moment when you realize you're closer on the mark than you thought. I suppose I could get into a mouse fetish.