you be me for a while and i'll be you
The great thing about traveling late on a fairly clear night through Tennessee is the assortment of AM radio stations from New Orleans to Chicago that one can pick up. Most of these deal in sports or news, but there is usually one or two with something a bit out of the ordinary enough to keep the driver awake and semi-alert and, for the most part, on his side of the yellow dashes.
For instance, a local show in Cincinnati the other night featured a pet psychic answering calls ranging from the thoughts of recently deceased pets in their final days to missing pets to the ailments of living and accounted for pets. One caller in particular was told that his poodle was indeed the reincarnation of a German Shepherd he had as a child. This, according to the pet psychic, is not uncommon.
It seems to me that the selling point on reincarnation is the possibility to move up the ladder with each existence or to drop a rung or two if you do something heinous or are the person who is responsible for Robin Williams films. The notion that one could keep coming back at the same level or that reincarnation itself is random rather sours me on the process. I mean, it's rather depressing to think that the Thanksgiving turkey this year could very well be the same turkey that sat on grandmother's table back in 1987 or that the exciting life of a semi-unemployed blogger awaits me on the other side of my impending aneurysm. Don't get me wrong, it's been a great life and I've had comparatively little to complain about thus far, but I'd much prefer to spend the next round as a Latin American strong man, a Japanese pop star, the white tiger that finally has enough and eats the magician, a chainsmoking grape harvester in northern Italy, a bona fide ninja, a crested warbler, Tony Danza, or anything else I haven't had the opportunity to be before.
Methinks a bit of variety would look good on the spiritual resume.