"Once you went to a spa when you felt tense. Now you feel tense going to a spa."

Oooooh! Maureen Dowd goes to some Florida spa, and, I ask you: Was anything ever more ready-made for Stuff White People Like?

But let's listen to Our Maureen:

I wondered if spas were a bit out of date. Shouldn’t they be offering more cutting-edge fare than the usual back rubs, rock-wall basics and lectures on “The Secret to Perfect Posture” and “Understanding Chakras”? What about face transplants instead of face cleansing? Social climbing in the Obama era rather than rock-wall climbing? Cure you of a man rather than a manicure?

She agonizes, but she's there, in that cornball outpost in Miami Beach.

I went to a lecture called “Let Me See Your Tongue”....

We politely draw the curtain...

As at the spa, it was hard to tell if the lack of a crowd signified that tourists just don’t know this ravishingly rococo spot is open or if real austerity abhors faux antiquity.

This — this — is the anguish of The Maureen.

ADDED: I can't see the point of traveling somewhere to get a massage. If you like massages, find a good masseuse in your own town. You can get massages every week all year 'round for the cost of that one trip. Meanwhile, if you go to all the trouble of traveling, go somewhere where you can see some interesting things. Why go somewhere to close your eyes?