You won't actually drive that tongue-red Ferrari, not in this lifetime, not so long as you're loving thy neighbor and helping the small people of the world, fighting the good fight, taking only what you need, healing wounds, righting wrongs, giving for the sake of giving. Nor will you ever glide down Las Olas in that silver Bentley, not so long as you're walking for the cure and saving the whales and turning off lights as you leave the room. Nor, you deluded sap, will you ever receive oral pleasure from a rum-addled, spring breaking coed as you mash the accelerator of that cosmos-black Lamborghini down around the double-yellow center lines of A1A, one hand on the gearshift and the other on a pigtail, pinballing through traffic, checking the rearview only for the lights of Fort Lauderdale's finest receding in the distance as your speedometer needle counts briskly by tens. No, not in this lifetime -- and yet, you're free to look.