Words of semi-wisdom by Hilda Back, 63, quoted in "And Now, the $200,000 Face-Lift/Luxury cosmetic procedures reach next level prices" (NYT).
The doctors touting their “designer” face-lifts insist that their advanced technique, elevated aesthetic sensibilities and experience allow them to charge these rates. Dr. Lara Devgan, a plastic surgeon in Manhattan, likened what she does to “commissioning an artist to make a very beautiful painting for you.” Dr. Devgan charges up to $200,000 for a face-lift.
“At first blush, it may seem like a big number, but I think of this as a question of value, not of cost,” Dr. Devgan said. “Your face is your job, it’s your love life, it’s your identity.”
I agree with the doctor. Skill levels vary, and there is scarcity. Why isn't it millions of dollars to get the best plastic surgeon to rearrange your face? How many times more would you have to pay to get Ed Sheeran to sing at your party as opposed to some random local singer?
As for rich people who are "still depressed"... who cares? Let them buy what they want. They're not purporting to tell you what you need to do to find happiness. One can easily infer that it's not to come up with $200,000 for a facelift, but maybe not to bother striving for the Rolls-Royce and three "homes."
ADDED: What does all that striving do to your face? If only you could buy happiness — would you pay $200,000 — it would probably make your face look pretty good. In a pinch: Smile!
BUT: Not a pinched smile:
Research shows the lines that arch above our cheeks from the corners of our eyes are viewed as a more sincere indicator of happiness. They come out when we are laughing or overjoyed. It's called a Duchenne smile, after French anatomist Guillaume Duchenne, who studied emotional expression by stimulating various facial muscles. Those lines put people more at ease than a quick pinched smile that doesn't shift other parts of the face.
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The doctor who did Hillary’s face was a genius. Easily worth $200k.
Perhaps Hilda could fight her depression by sending $200,000 to me. Two birds sort of thing.
For beauty I am not a star,
There are others more perfect by far,
But my face, I don't mind it
For I am behind it,
It is those in front that I jar.
*Not* written by Woodrow Wilson, but by Anthony Euwer.
And then he wrote:
THE CONSCIENCE
With a conscience we're able to see
Just how bad we're permitted to be,
At the same time it's true
That what's wicked for you
Mightn't be half so wicked for me.
"Why isn't it millions of dollars to get the best plastic surgeon to rearrange your face?"
How would this be priced in a socialist system? Would it even be available? If so, to whom?
Doctors charging that much better have some very hefty malpractice insurance. Clients will expect perfection.
I'll give you all I've got to give
If you say you love me too
I may not have a lot to give
But what I've got, I'll give to you
I don't care too much for money
Money can't buy me love
No Pelosi! Never accept a Pelosi!! It gives new meaning to the term "rictus smile."
The happy difference between this face-lift surgery, and the phalloplasty described in the blog post just above this, is that we taxpayers are not PAYING for this lady's quest for happiness. It's her money, not Uncle Sam's. And while some may believe the money could have been better spent, it's still HER MONEY!
Space tourism is more expensive. I suppose the good thing about space tourism is that somewhere down the line it will become available to all of us. Maybe they can figure out some way to get us to Japan in a half hour or find some other practical application for sending people to the stratosphere.....Being good looking, like being rich, doesn't guarantee happiness but it certainly improves the odds, and there are practical benefits for all of us if there are improvements in surgical techniques and the talent pool of smart people who seek to improve their surgical skills.
I may laugh sometimes at what rich people do with their money, but I don't really care.
And it's smart for a surgeon (or anyone, really) to test the upper ends...somebody might actually buy what you're selling.
As for money in general, I've been rich and I've been poor...
"As for rich people who are "still depressed"... who cares? Let them buy what they want. They're not purporting to tell you what you need to do to find happiness."
This is the classical liberalism I like in Ann. Leave me alone and I'll leave you alone. We need more of that.
She needs a penis, but the facelift is less expensive unless she just rents one.
The experience with some famous women, Meg Ryan for example, suggests that more expensive may not be a guarantee of better.
'The experience with some famous women, Meg Ryan for example, suggests that more expensive may not be a guarantee of better.'
She was so cute back in her 'You've got mail' days.
I don't know what these women are thinking, but I suppose if you've (up until a certain age) made your living partly based upon your looks, it's tough to age naturally...
"Why isn't it millions of dollars to get the best plastic surgeon to rearrange your face?"
No insurance coverage.
"Why isn't it millions of dollars to get the best plastic surgeon to rearrange your face?"
Well, let's analyze that. Why isn't it millions of dollars to get you garbage hauled away? Presumably, some garbage-haulers are faster, more punctual, more understanding, cleaner - whatever. Isn't it worth millions of dollars to have the best garbage-haulers haul your garbage?
I guess not. I guess there is an upper limit to the value people put on having their garbage hauled.
"I have a Rolls-Royce, I have three homes, I have everything I could possibly want, but I was still depressed."
Ain't Got You
I got the fortunes of heaven in diamonds and gold
I got all the bonds baby that the bank could hold
I got houses 'cross the country honey end to end
And everybody buddy wants to be my friend
Well I got all the riches baby any man ever knew
But the only thing I ain't got, honey, I ain't got you
I got a house full of Rembrandt and priceless art
And all the little girls, they wanna tear me apart
When I walk down the street, people stop and stare
Well, you'd think I might be thrilled but baby I don't care
'Cause I got more good luck honey than old King Farouk
But the only thing I ain't got, baby, I ain't got you
I got a big diamond watch sittin' on my wrist
I try to tempt you, baby, but you just resist
I made a deal with the devil, babe, I won't deny
Until I got you in my arms, I can't be satisfied
I got a pound of caviar sitting home on ice
I got a fancy foreign car that rides like paradise
I got a hundred pretty women knockin' down my door
And folks wanna kiss me I ain't even seen before
I been around the world and all across the seven seas
Been paid a king's ransom for doin' what comes naturally
But I'm still the biggest fool, honey, this world ever knew
'Cause the only thing I ain't got, baby, I ain't got you
"This is my face, and it’s going everywhere I go."
But the cool thing is, while everyone else has to look at it, you don't even have to see it if it bothers you that much.
"This is my face, and it’s going everywhere I go."
'Wherever you go, there you are.'
--Buckaroo Banzai
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