The Manly Fireplug and I just returned from Orlando, where we had joined his family for Christmas. Or rather we returned from Disneyworld, as we did not once, in six days, step foot off Disney property into Orlando proper.

It was the kind of vacation that I would never choose for myself: the all-inclusive package vacation, separated, like a cruise ship, from the ugly and petty realities of life, in which every meal and presumably every care was to be handled by one company.

Which is not to say it was the kind of vacation I’d refuse. The Manly Fireplug’s mother paid for everything. Lodging, meals, admission to each of the five parks. I am not so elitist as to turn down such an offer, nor do I assume that my acceptance into the Fireplug clan is so easily assured, at this early date.

And buried deep (though not so deep in some) of every homosexual must be some slender longing for the Magic of Disney. As for Disney at Christmas, well, the mind reels…

Our journey began at the Orlando airport, where we checked in at the special Disney Magical Experience desk on level two, which handled our transportation, as well as the handling of our luggage, so that we could sit back, relax and enjoy the Special Disney Promotional Video on the Disney Magical Experience shuttle bus to our hotel.

We stayed at the Disney All-Stars Movie Resort, the third stop in the All-Stars compound, after the Disney All-Stars Sports, and the Disney All-Star Music resorts. The All-Stars Movie resort had three separate buildings, each designed around a separate Disney movie. Our building was the Mighty Ducks complex, with outer stairwells resembling hockey nets. To get to our room, however, we had to walk by the 101 Dalmations complex, which had a completely different design for the stairwells. I made the Manly Fireplug pose in front of one:

His family, a large, boisterous Irish Catholic clan, prefers the Up-And-At-’Em approach to life, rising at the crack of dawn so that we could be first in line for the shuttle bus, so that we could be first in line at the park, about an hour before the gates even open.

I prefer the Sleeping-In approach to life. Especially on vacation. By day five, I was a tad cranky. The Fireplug bought me a Grumpy coffee mug as consolation.

His family also has this habit of talking to strangers. Like everywhere. In line for the bus. In line for the Tower of Terror. On the monorail. I just don’t understand this tendency. The Fireplug does this all the time, so it’s not like I was shocked. And like him, they are all rather dramatic and voluble. The Fireplug says that when I talk about his family, I use a lot of “jazz hands.” You get the picture.

We caught the parade on our first visit to the Magic Kingdom, where I was struck by the number of employees Disney must have. Except that Disney calls them all “cast members.”  You could grow up to be the guy who dances down the street in a Tigger costume. Or dressed up like Christopher Robin. I can think of a few boys who would push him in front of a float for such a chance.

You could also dance around as a Gingerbread Man, though the Fireplug found them a little creepy:

Or you could be the guy who cleans up after the horses:

Our first night we caught some low-key fireworks at Epcot:

As part of our Disney Vacation Package, virtually all of our meals were included in the Meal Plan, which allotted us ten Snacks, ten Quick-Service Meals, and ten Table-Service meals. Included in the latter were options for Character Dining Experiences. On our second night we ate with Cinderella:

Where Prince Charming totally insisted on posing with me and the Fireplug. Go figure.

The next morning, after waiting in line at the Magic Kingdom at some ungodly hour, the Fireplug and I split off from the group in search of breakfast. We ended up at the Crystal Palace Restaurant where, to our luck, we enjoyed another Character Dining Experience. Each table waited for Winnie the Pooh and his friends to make the rounds, some with more patience than others:

Birds of a feather. Enough said.

At this point the days kind of run together in my hazy memory. One day we ended up on the “backlot” street at Hollywood Studios:

As for shopping, there were plenty of Magic of Disney stores at every park:

Despite my occasional Disney exasperation, sometimes even I was enchanted. Especially by pretty lights:

After six days of Magic, however, and six days of holiday crowds, and six days of rising early, I’d had enough, and was homesick for San Francisco. Naturally the only nonstop flight to home left before sunrise. The Fireplug and I stayed up all night so that we could meet the Magical Experience airport shuttle at 3 a.m.

And even though, on our arrival at Disney, we were the last of the three All-Stars Resort stops, the morning of our departure we were the first. Which meant that even though we boarded the bus at 3 a.m., it was 4 a.m. before we even left Disney property. On our way to the airport, we were treated with another Disney Promotional Video, which told us all about the fabulous and enchanting experiences we could have with the Disney Cruise Line, Disney Vacation Club, and Adventures by Disney. What’s more, if we booked NOW, we could receive special discounts on our next Magical Experience.

At four a.m., however, we were just a tad sleepy, and perhaps even a tad overstimulated by All Things Disney. So we let that opportunity pass us by…

Which means that all I am left with, now, back home in San Francisco, writing this little holiday newsletter, is the small comfort of sipping tea from my new Grumpy mug.

Happy New Year.