Let's assume...

Let's assume for a lark that reincarnation is true. Let me now imagine what my next life will be like. For the record, my current life is bookish: this time around, I wagered my entire existence on literature. But here's what I predict will happen next:

I will be born as a tall handsome cowboy. Looking up, I'll see a banner that reads "Welcome to the World of Rock & Roll". ("Ah, so I must be some sort of superstar singer," I'll think to myself.) I'll look to my right & notice that a guitar is leaning against a brick wall. I'll grab this instrument by its neck and walk forward onto my tour bus. 

I'll slip a dime into the pay-slot of the fare-box and pat the driver on his cap. He'll then give a friendly nod, and I'll walk down the aisle to meet the other bandmembers.

There'll be three clean-cut young men seated near the back of the bus. I'll ask them: "Is this the Bryan Ray Orchestra?" (One thing about all my future lives is that I'm always named Bryan Ray, no matter what.) "Yes," the other musicians will say, "this is the main section of the Bryan Ray Band. And you must be..." Then I'll smile and say: "Bryan Ray," and we'll all shake hands. 

Our first show will be in Iowa. I'll learn this fact from an advertisement flyer that is resting on the floor of the bus, between my cowboy boots. I'll then turn to my bandmates and remark: "I believe we're gonna have a rockin' good time at tonight's gig." "Yessir," they'll say. Then we'll all play some card games while exchanging stories about our adolescence, to get to know each other.

"Does our orchestra have a brass section?" I shall ask, before placing my next playing card (an ace) on the bus seat that we'll be using as a makeshift game-table. "We do indeed," the guitarist named Jay shall answer, "but they have their own bus — see there?" and Jay will tap on the window, prompting me to look out and notice that there are a trail of busses following ours, each having printed in fancy lettering on its side, beneath our main band name, its respective orchestral section: for instance, "Woodwinds"; also "Strings".

"Boy, I'm hungry," I shall declare, as we are passing a local hotdog vendor, who has set up his cart at the side of the six-lane highway. Then all our playing cards shall fall to the floor at once, because the driver will have heard my remark, slammed on the brakes, shifted the bus into reverse, and engaged in the process of backing it up, causing the cautionary electronic beep-noise to blare repetitiously, as a warning meaning "move it or lose it" to any creatures who might be napping behind our wheels. The driver shall then open the door of the bus and greet the hotdog vendor, who will answer: "I am not waiting for a ride; I am selling refreshments." "Yes, I understand," the bus driver shall laugh, "I stopped because I wish to place an order: We'd like one hotdog for our lead singer/songwriter, and please add ketchup and mustard, also relish, and a glass of lemonade to drink; plus three more hotdogs and lemonades for the rest of the band members. Also whatever the following busses lined up behind ours decide to order — put all that stuff on my tab, too, if you will." Then the driver shall doff his cap and wink and nod. 

"Would you like anything for yourself?" the hotdog vendor will ask, while handing over the platter containing the just-ordered items. "Hmm, yes..." the bus driver shall say (he shall speak slowly because he'll be thinking about what he's in the mood for); "um... how about giving me one of those giant soft pretzels with coarse salt granules, and some mustard sauce for dipping."

Now we arrive at our venue. As we enter the stage, the auditorium is in total darkness. Then a spotlight shines on me & my three main bandmates: Art the drummer, Jay the guitarist, and Roswell the bass player. And there are highlights in the background to accent the bleachers where the rest of the orchestra is arranged in a semicircle behind us. I myself am the lead vocalist; I also play guitar.

The crowd is cheering madly, in anticipation of a really good show. Then the noise dies down, for I've raised my conductor's baton while facing the tuba section (which has a big job to do at the start of this opening song). I shout a fast countdown and then the whole place begins to rock. We launch directly into our #1 hit entitled "Let Us Wed and Remain in Our Homeland, O Irish Woman".

While we play and sway, the girls in the audience are spazzing out and going absolutely bonkers. Even the boys can't help but bob along to the beat while smoking their cigarettes.

The next song that we perform is my own cover version of "Night Train", which does to James Brown's 1962 version what James Brown's 1962 version did to Jimmy Forrest's 1952 version. The crowd goes wild. Right then and there, pop critics in the audience begin to write their reviews of our show, which will appear in tomorrow's newspaper: "Bryan Ray is a Musical Genius" proclaims one headline. ("She's not wrong," I shall remark while reading this article aloud to the rest of my band after the show, when we all meet at a local church to relax and sip soft drinks.)

This career as a rock-&-roll icon will satisfy me. I'll be careful not to let the fast life of fame & constant travel get out of hand. I shall enjoy stardom in moderation. When mature women visit me in my dressing room & request that I fondle them, I shall tenderly comply. Some shall complain that I am not moving fast enough: they shall hike up their skirts and demand that we fornicate immediately. I shall honor their desire. These acts will result in me not infrequently contracting sexually transmitted diseases and begetting unplanned offspring; but I will have no regrets — I make enough money to pay for every doctor visit, and I support robustly all my kids and their mothers I love. I'm so generous with my time & money, in fact, that all the moms secretly harbor guilt about the possibility that they might be taking advantage of me. But, without their having even to broach the subject, I reassure them that nothing in the world means more to me than they themselves and the future of our children. I cover the full cost of the finest schooling, through postsecondary education and beyond. When my financial advisors call me insane for the way that I'm throwing capital around, I casually flick them the bird while leaving their office & say: "You do your work; I'll do mine."

At a certain point along this next life's journey, I also realized that it was immoral for me to care exclusively for my own biological children, and to send up prayers for them alone, while allowing all the other kids in America to starve and die; so I decided to begin including in my nightly prayers ALL of the youngsters who live in this great nation, and to embark on a campaign to make EVERY school a public good. This took me a few months, because I had to argue with each private school's owner about the price of their property; but eventually I bought them all up and transferred their deeds to "Mother Nature" (that's what I actually wrote on the legal paperwork while laughing heartily). I also utilized a portion of the funds that I acquired from being a rock star to purchase all the pharmaceutical corporations & hospitals, etc. — in short, the whole privatized medical industry — and I dragged it all, kicking and screaming, into the commons. 

I made everything free. And people were like "You can't do that: you'll ruin the system." And I answered "I'm a rule breaker: a rock-&-roll maverick. Plus, the system sux; who cares!" And they were like "But you can't just overturn everything and expect a pleasant outcome." And I replied, "Why not? What's so good about the present arrangement? Isn't it making everyone miserable? Then maybe letting it thaw into love will yield ACTUAL pleasantness." And they couldn't answer, so I hugged them. Then I slipped them some cash.

So my next life shall be very effective; it shall benefit the community — that's what I learned from this experiment. I also learned that I enjoy traveling with a full orchestra in a series of separate busses. And the hat that our bus driver wore was to my liking. I also loved the female fans who approached me: I savored every backstage conversation, and I truly felt bliss while embracing each unique soul. This was a good life; thanks for creating it — I hope more people get to experience what it's like to be an artist whose work is appreciated by contemporaries & not ignored.