When I whisk my glasses off, I want not to be myopic, but instead to be instantly dashingly handsome with several superpowers (which may or may not include flying, thus saving a fortune in airfares), and even perhaps X-ray vision. It goes without saying that when I slip my glasses on immediately after saving California from an earthquake, no one should be able to recognise me, despite having been on every newspaper and TV in the world.
When I check into a hotel (even a two star hole-in-the-wall) it should have an unobstructed view of Eiffel Tower or Central Park or whatever the most picturesque local sight there is. I want to wake up on most mornings (when not out solving world hunger) next to a drop-dead gorgeous woman with a PhD in astrophysics, but who looks great in Victoria's latest secret or in a lab coat, and cooks a mean breakfast.
Of course, despite her black belt in karate, she will be completely and utterly helpless when she hears a strange sound in the basement, investigating aforementioned sound in aforementioned revealing lingerie. I shall then proceed to kill the Beast with No Name, as she screams incessantly, after which we make love on a Tahitian beach (as the natives and tourists politely and tactfully disappear from sight) against a setting sun.
I would also be grateful for the opportunity to overcome my inability to speak several languages by speaking English in a French, German or Chinese accent, and to be immediately taken for a native.
I should like, furthermore, to always find a parking spot for my car right in front of the very building that I wish to visit, even if it happens to be on Piccadilly Circus at rush hour. This will greatly facilitate the ensuing car chase that is bound to happen, but if I had arrived at the building by some other means (say, flying), there is sure to be a bright red Ferrari parked conveniently outside with the keys in place.
When I decide to use an airline (flying solo can be so boring, plus it's chilly at 10,000 metres), I wish to be seated next to a Bolivian tin heiress who has a striking resemblance to Natalie Umbruglia, who is immediately captivated by my wit and charm, and invites me to spend the rest of the summer at her chateau in the south of France. Papa (a Nazi war criminal), repents after meeting me, establishing a trust fund from his ill-gotten gains He leaves me to distribute several billion dollars to good causes, himself returning to Germany to face his fate. Maria-Celeste and I live happily ever after in our several mansions as I solve world hunger and eventually receive the Nobel Peace Prize for arranging Arafat's wedding to Sharon's daughter, thereby bringing lasting peace to the middle east.
But most of all, I want theme music. I want background tunes (not just for me, but for all human beings) that set the mood. I want soft romantic music to come on when I happen to sit next to that special someone on the bus, so that we both know we were meant to be. I want a few bars of staccato music from Copeland when I am about to put my foot in my mouth, thereby saving the day. I expect 'sexual healing' by Marvin Gaye to play in the background when I am about to get lucky. I want triumphant music when I come enticingly close to doing something amazing, so I know not to quit at the wrong time. Let Bollywood not be left out, sitar music with rhythmic chants of 'Om' as I have a transcendental experience (Hollywood movies rarely have such events). When I am in physical danger, I should have music by Vangelis to encourage me to run.
Besides, there remain many a moral or social issue with ambiguous solutions, and therefore no official theme music. For instance, there is as yet no approved Hollywood or Bollywood theme music to tackle the thorny issue of battery farming of chickens. Leave those sorts of issues to Dogme films.
(Queue Louis Armstrong's 'It's a wonderful world', exit stage right, music fades)

Updated: