Your dearly beloved reverend nearly went to see Beyoncé at the Pearly Gates the other day. I can hear your horrified gasps from here. Well ought you catch your breath in fright — I’ve not yet made an official will! I have made my last wishes well known in various posts on here, thought. A quick review: string up my skeleton and inter it visibly at Père Lachaise in a GOOD sepulcher; cremate my flesh and scatter it in the desert sands of Egypt near Luxor — a nice area, please; no formal funeral, but a riparian musical soirée of drag queens with a large gourmet vegetarian buffet served on Royal Doulton. Oh what fun you’ll have!
And now, before we press on into the sermon, open your hymnals up to “Crazy World” sung by the fabulous Julie Andrews in one of your reverend’s favorite films, Victor/Victoria:
In my youth, my mother, sister, and I were involved in a rather serious car accident — I sometimes credit that as the cause of my very few childhood memories. Perhaps there’s some kind of deep-rooted psychological disturbance behind it, too, but what might have caused that…I have only the vaguest of ideas.
Anyway, the truck we were driving was a total wreck, which didn’t bother me any — I never cared for it much. The doors were coated in this weird material — maybe it was rotted plastic or something? — you would often get a powdery substance under your nails. Still, it was quite a wreck, and a helicopter had to come and a power pole was splintered by the impact.
Yesterday, worse nearly happened! I was headed home when a car in the opposite lane came hurtling toward our vehicle. It was apparently trying to pass, but there were too many cars ahead. Instead, the car was making making its way to us with nowhere to go. Ma drove out onto the shoulder and we barely missed a head-on collision that would have ended in certain death for us, the other car, and surely many others.
I don’t know why, but the incident didn’t really bother me. I’ve never reacted very strongly to anything, though. Still, it got me thinking — have I had a happy life? For the most part, I suppose so. But if I had died, what would I regret — if anything, you know…since I’d be a smashed and mangled corpse — had I achieved all of my dreams? Goodness no! So, I thought I should perhaps make one of those bucket list things that everybody but me seems to have done.
Here we go:
- Become an Egyptologist and spend years working in this favorite field of mine.
- Have a book traditionally published.
- Live in London, work at the British Museum, and retire in Paris to a glorious old apartment all my own.
- Have some kind of fame and recognition.
- GO TO EUROVISION.
- Be in a major modeling campaign.
- Work with big cats.
- Attend the MET GALA.
- Sit for a professional oil painting of me looking sickeningly regal.
- Go on a round the world vacation that will last for years.
I have loads of work to do. But, it’s kind of nice to have goals. Surely I won’t accomplish them all, but it’s nice to try.