My first facial

Yup. You read right. I've had a facial. It happened like this. The Hawaii Performing Arts Festival invited me to emcee its Rodgers and Hammerstein concert last Friday night, and put me up at the Four Seasons Hualalai. Bernadette and I decided to do as little as possible other than my concert commitment and just relax otherwise. My idea of relaxing is sleeping. Her idea of relaxing is shopping. So the day after the concert, after driving to Waimea-Kamuela and Hawi, I did something I haven't done in many years -- drew a really hot bath in a really nice bathtub and fell asleep in it. Bernadette went shopping. I awoke to find her taking a little brown jar out of a bag. "What's that?" I asked. "This," she said, "is clay, mixed with chocolate. I am going to give you a chocolate facial." "I have a confession to make," I said. "I'm not sure I even know what a facial is. Is that where you put clay on the face and it dries and when you take it off you're supposed to feel better?" "Correct," she said. "Actually, your skin should feel smoother. And, it will smell like chocolate." "Okay," I said, because it meant I didn't have to get out of the bathtub yet. And she applied cocoa-scented, cocoa-colored mud to my face. It needed to set, which was fine because it meant I could remain in the tub even longer. "This is Peruvian chocolate," Bernadette said. Okay. Heaven forfend someone would paint me with Icelandic chocolate. I thought Peru was only known for Lima beans (joke). Skipping to the end, my skin actually did feel smoother, though I have to admit I had not realized it was insufficiently smooth before. I also felt a passing sentiment that this was a waste of perfectly good chocolate, Peruvian or otherwise. The jar and the applicator cost $25. If ever you're offered a facial/ Your response ought not to be glacial/ Your skin will feel new/ When you wash off the goo/ But it helps if your bathtub's palatial.