At the pub, everyone’s talking about Euro Disney, which opened this week. “I reckon that’s America’s biggest export—the big mouse,” our bartender says, tilting a pint glass under the tap. A guy with a shabby goatee drops the line that everyone’s quoting, that Euro Disney is “a cultural Chernobyl,” and I can tell by his tone that he thinks Americans are common philistines. “It’s basically intellectual pollution,” Goatee Boy says, looking at Tracy and me, waiting for a response. A jolt of patriotism kicks in, and I can’t let it lie, as my mother would advise. “I read in the paper that they hired
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