My Life in Fur (Part 7)
Now it’s time to say good-bye
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 yours 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 text accompanying the image 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 have been a party to. This essay is the last in a seven-part series of essays about performing at Walt Disney World in Florida as the irascle Donald Duck. This installment centers around the theme of a window opening when a door has been slammed shut. Enjoy!
FROM THE DAY I graduated with my bachelor’s degree in communications, I focused my sights on a career within Walt Disney World that did not involve me wearing fur. I still had my eye on the company’s marketing…
