When I was about seven or eight in the 1950s, I told my mom and six sisters that when I get old, “I’m having a facelift!” They laughed. I insisted. I was dreaming of an impossible luxury. I thought by the time I needed one, science would offer a new way to do it, and do it cheaper. Norman Mailer had two deep thought lines over his nose, often hidden with glasses. However, on a woman, walking down a street, even with glasses, men ordered me to smile. Customs officers ordered my luggage inspected. Students feared angering me. Overseas job … Continue reading My Facelift at 54 Years Old, 2004