Metamorphosis

I want to awaken one of these days to find myself transformed, not into the giant roach of Kafka's signature nightmare, but into Robert Goulet, a little past his prime, entering stage right to the opening strains of "Ohhhhhhhhk!-la-ho-ma where the blah blah blah blah blah blah blah! …"  Brimming with exuberance and energy and basking in the crowd's adoration that is.  Timing is everything.