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My column today:

I spent a few days in Washington and saw President Obama everywhere.

My first encounter took me by surprise. I was jogging along the Tidal Basin at dawn and spotted him at the Franklin Roosevelt Memorial. He seemed to be meditating in front of a statue of FDR and his beloved Scottish terrier.

“Mr. President,” I asked, “is that you?”

“This is one of my favorite places in Washington,” he said, barely glancing up.

“I suppose it inspires you to think of the enormous challenges that Roosevelt was able to overcome,” I suggested.

“It does,” he answered. “But it also makes me wonder if I want to be cast into bronze someday with a Portuguese water dog.”

Later, I visited the Lincoln Memorial. There was Obama, leading a group of schoolchildren in reciting the Gettysburg Address.

And at the Smithsonian’s Museum of American History, he was narrating an exhibit about the 2008 presidential election.

After lunch downtown, I noticed a long line on the sidewalk leading into a bank. I went in to see what was happening. To my amazement, everyone was waiting to see President Obama, who was sitting at the loan desk.

An aide explained: “He’s come to get the money moving. The bank was too slow. Would you like to sign up for a few million?”

Back on the street, I saw a parade forming. The same aide had followed me out.

“The president was disappointed that so many people missed his inaugural parade,” she told me. “So he leads another one every afternoon.”

While waving to the crowd and walking two miles in only 30 minutes, Obama managed phone conversations with three foreign leaders, six senators, four representatives, two governors, five Cabinet secretaries, commanders of U.S. forces in Iraq and Afghanistan and his wife.

“I think we should consider a Scotty,” he told the first lady.

That night, I attended a Washington Wizards game. By then I wasn’t shocked to see the president come off the bench in the fourth quarter and cut a big deficit in half. He might have done better but some of his teammates didn’t want to play ball.

The next day, I saw Obama with his daughters at the National Zoo. Stopping by the panda exhibit, he whispered some words of encouragement to Tian Tian, the male, then told zookeepers he’d put something in the next stimulus package just for reluctant pandas.

Meanwhile, Vice President Biden was counting peanuts in the elephant habitat.

“It’s my job to clamp down on waste,” he said. “We haven’t got a peanut to spare.”

A runty Indian elephant spit out a peanut at Biden and trumpeted in defiance, but not very impressively.

The commotion attracted Obama’s attention.

“You ought to call that one Bobby Jindal,” he told a zookeeper. “Hey, Joe, if he doesn’t want his peanuts, take ’em back. Nobody messes with Joe, right?”

I noticed another enclosure nearby filled with cheese. There must have been tons of it stacked up in blocks.

“What’s in there?” I asked.

“Nancy Pelosi’s mouse,” a zookeeper said.

My tour took me next to Capitol Hill, where Obama was scolding a special joint session of Congress about earmark appropriations. Immediately afterward, he presented a copy of his remarks to the National Archives for permanent display, then popped in at the Supreme Court to inquire about Justice Ginsburg’s health.

The next morning was Sunday. I went to services at the National Cathedral, which were led, of course, by the president. He spoke eloquently about the spiritual interdependence of faith and works, then greeted worshippers on their way out.

“I’ll make a believer of you yet,” he said as he shook my hand.

A big winter storm was predicted, so I decided to head for home.

I was just packing the car when a salt-spreader truck pulled up alongside. Who was at the wheel but President Obama.

“This isn’t Chicago,” he said. “Washington is helpless in the snow. I tell you, the only way schools will open tomorrow is if I clear the streets myself. We don’t need kids missing school, including mine.”

“Maybe you should get a Saint Bernard,” I said, “in case you have to rescue stranded motorists.”

“Now you’re thinking big,” he smiled. “And a dog like that would sure look good in bronze.”

Thanks for reading. You can call me at 373-7039, email me at dgclark@news-record.com or post a comment here.