Last year I ran the ludicrous-to-me-at-the-time Goofy Challenge, which consisted of chasing a half-marathon with a full marathon the following day. You just can’t fight the power of Big Mouse to overload your senses with delight. Yet once again the Happiest Place on Earth cut through a good 90 percent of my cynicism, and I found myself on a one-way Magical Express ride to joyous delirium and childlike wonder. I flew to Orlando determined not to get too caught up in the calculated-nostalgia engine driven by Mickey and associates, and just to be safe, forced two coworkers to solemnly swear on a copy of Disney’s Bible Classics that they would physically stop me from getting a Fantasia tattoo during our deployment at Disney. Play icon The triangle icon that indicates to playīut this year I was better prepared to face those animated corporate overlords at Disney.
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