There’s been a void in my life for as long as I can remember.

Through the years, I’ve tried to fill it with meaningful friendships, serious relationships, family, career choices and even frivolous hobbies like chronic restaurant dining or snappy dressing. I’ve tried volunteer work with literacy programs, a stint in education as a substitute teacher, participation in choral groups and late-night karaoke, even going to college. I’ve read thousands of books and magazines, visited hundreds of churches and fellowships, joined a handful of groups and organizations. And still the emptiness remained.

Until now.

Now, I know what’s been missing in my scant three decades of living. I know what has eluded my existential groping in the mire of life.

A good stereo system.

Yes, it finally occurred to me that something as simple as an electronic device with a few speakers, wires and blinking lights was all I needed to feel powerful, successful and alive! I’ve discovered the secret that apparently my neighbors have known for years: Nothing says “I’m better than you” like a stereo system so exquisite that people two apartments over can hear your bass beating like war drums at any time of the day or night.

What do I care if I wake the young mother’s baby in number 618 below me? Or disturb the man who is recuperating from surgery two doors down? Or wake up the person who struggles to make ends meet in a job that requires late hours? At 8 a.m., dinner time or 11:30 at night, I will show them all that their puny musical choices do not compare to mine.

Of course, I must make sure that I have the largest speakers possible pushed up against a wall I share with other residents. If the speakers are pulled away from the wall, then I won’t be able to vibrate the entire building.

And I must have the bass turned up as high as possible. That way, even if the units are well-insulated and my neighbors can’t hear the words or music to the songs I like, they will at least be able to hear the beat while they’re trying to watch a romance or suspense movie they’ve rented.

If my neighbors complain to me, to the landlord or to the police, I will live in defiance of the noise ordinance! I will continue to invade the lives of those around me. I will proudly disturb their peace because to do otherwise would infringe on my Second Amendment right to free speech, wouldn’t it?

To heck with everyone else if they can’t afford a stereo system as good as mine. They just don’t “get” it.

Better yet, I think I’ll have one installed in my car. Then, everywhere I go, I will be the most respected and admired person for a three-mile radius around me. I will drive through quiet neighborhoods at 2 a.m. and the denizens will toss fitfully in their beds as I approach, rattling their windows like distant thunder. I will cruise down Western Boulevard on a Friday evening, forcing everyone caught in traffic with me to hear the virile roar of my majesty.

They will turn up the volumes of their own radios – which, ha! probably came with the vehicle – but they will not be able to drown out the booming of my presence, which will sound like a dozen baseball bats beating the pavement. They will twist their heads to see where the sound comes from, and they will feel an irresistible pull to mate with me or be my best friend.

In fact, I hope my music habits cause me to lose my hearing by age 40, because then I can turn it up even louder and live in denial of my age. You know the old saying, “If it’s too loud, you’re too old.”

I will finally be, in a word, “cool.”

Ah, after all this time.