Withering Glance: They're popping off about Dr. Zit

Rick Nelson and Claude Peck dispense unasked-for advice about clothing, etiquette, culture, relationships, grooming and more.

CP: I wish my dermatologist were set up more like a casino. Or a hedge fund.

RN: Wait, isn't that how the American health care system works?

CP: I would lay down $1,000 against a year's worth of potential visits. If I go less, they win; but if I go more, I come out ahead. My guess is everything after July would be a freebie.

RN: I'd be even-Steven by February. Oh, to be a dermatologist. To look half our ages, to own seven or eight homes, to never be on call, to have a lifetime supply of Cetaphil products and to be retired long before AARP age.

CP: I can hear my receptionist now: "I'm sorry, Dr. Peck is available only at his Boca clinic until late April." Don't we both go to the same dermo-office, in the glorious old edifice known as Medical Arts?

RN: The building's cathedral-like lobby lessens the sting of going to the doctor, don't you think? But yes, he's the one, Dr. Zit. I adored him at first sight. I love how his waiting room has more Calder prints than a Chelsea gallery.

RN: I love how he doesn't keep his patients waiting. You have an appointment at 9:20? You are seeing Dr. Z's kisser at 9:20, sharp. And he whips out that medical hot glue gun, or whatever it is, faster than Jeff Bridges in "True Grit." Before you can say "Clinique Age Defense Moisturizer," he has zapped something unsightly and is applying a Band-Aid.

CP: I had two small bumps on my face that had become a shaving hazard. Before I'd finished mentioning them, Dr. Z was coming at me with what looked like a soldering iron. Then, the stink of charred skin. Ow.

RN: Man up, Peck. Dr. Z is a dermatologist, not an oral surgeon with a no-anesthesia policy.

CP: Here's a question: If we are supposed to avoid all sun unless slathered with SPF 90, why do so many dermatologists seem to have a year-round tan to rival that of House Speaker John Boehner?

RN: Don't ask me. Spray-on, perhaps? It is a little disconcerting.

RN: Dr. Z put me on a miraculous new rosacea formula, and I now have the skin of a Cover Girl spokesmodel. If only the pharmaceutical industry could find a similarly successful formula for my Sahara-level chapped lips.

CP: Ask Dr. Z. He's certain to have an app for chapped.