Dinner chez Cheney

It's now become a tradition; every year during the Holidays, we get invited by Dick Cheney and his wife at their Jackson Hole residence. From the beginning, I guess, they liked my conservative looks and must enjoy my company. Since flying is too expensive and so weather dependent, we resign ourselves to the five hour drive and get there by 6 pm. They have a big house - what am I saying, a compound - large enough to accommodate all the secret service staff that at first, we mistook for the other guests.

The food is always moose (they get so much roadkill up there that this has become the only responsible way to go) and they even get us a special rate to stay after dinner at the Four Season, but it's still four times cheaper for us to drive 35 miles south and sleep in nearby Alpine. Dick likes that I am bald like him, and in truth, he and his wife Lynne host us because we're in fact immigrants, the kind they like. We actually don't talk much; I crack my traditional Mormon jokes and I have another one about homosexual lesbians (Lynne always cringes and corrects me saying that one of the two words isn't necessary,) we then have dessert, coffee and are on our way home. As we drive to the motel, my wife always asks me why in the world we have to do this every year and I answer that if one day, I need that greeter's job at Walmart, the Cheneys will come in as a handy introduction...