Church of the Big Sky

I left work at 4 p.m. today in order to get to a physical therapy appointment at 5. Usually, it takes just about an hour to drive from my office downtown up to Rockville. Up Connecticut, over to Wisconsin, a short jog on 270, and, bam, I’m there.

But today, there was a mess up on Wisconsin in Tenleytown, right by WAMU. Motorcade mess. A cross street used by many commuters was blocked off by cops and Secret Service, and traffic got jumbled and backed up. I had no idea what was going on, especially since it’s not exactly a common spot for motorcade gridlock. I just cursed it all under my breath and eventually got past and made it to my appointment a bit late.

I just found out what the hubbub was about. Dick Cheney’s dog had an appointment with a vet up there. Dick Cheney’s dog gets a friggin’ motorcade. Dick Cheney’s dog, people.

The Sasquatch often talks about “first world problems.” First world problems are problems that no one in the developing world would ever even think about. In the developing world, people tend to be concerned about the basics – food, housing, education, making progress in a meaningful way. In our Western world, though, people with too much time and money on their hands have ridiculous problems to solve. I saw a local TV ad tonight where a woman whines and whines about how ugly her kitchen counters are. In her friend’s house, the counters are unthinkably beautiful, and thus, this woman is humiliated by her lack of kitchen prowess and pulchritude. She simply cannot live with herself until she calls some “granite transitions” firm to install stunning counters where she can display a basket of lemons and put her Lexus keys.

That is a First World Problem.

Feeling you must repeatedly have plastic surgery to tighten up your face and expand your boobs until you look like a Joker balloon in the Macy’s parade?

First World Problem.

You stress about having to pay nanny taxes?

First World Problem.

Have a desperate need to own a personalized water bottle to show the world who you *really* are?

First World Problem. Massively lame First World Problem.

There are so many examples. So very many. Feel free to leave your favorite in the comments.

Today, though, DC gets its very own category of First World Problem. Apparently, when you’re the VP (or Satan, you make the call) and you need to get your dog to the vet, that’s a very, very, very special First World Problem. And your very, very, very special First World Solution is to use a motorcade requiring several motorcycle escorts, Secret Service, roads closed by the DC police, and, oh, not to be forgotten, a shitload of taxpayer money.

Well, maybe it was an emergency. You never know – maybe Dick took the dog out quail hunting and accidentally shot him in the face.

Stranger things have happened.

Time for bed here in the land of the surreal. Who knows what tomorrow may bring?