In the relative scheme of things facing the United States, is a ballroom really that big a deal? After all, “Patriots” still have immigrants, illegal or otherwise, to expel and then there are prices, gas, food, housing and health care, and those darn Iranians who desperately want a deal but keep telling Trump to suck eggs as he begs for an exit ramp from his adventure in warmongering. With all that, who cares about a ballroom?

It started as a $200 million boondoggle. Then $250, $300,  and then $400. We know this because Trump talks about the ballroom incessantly, whether anyone asks or not. What about Iran? Ballroom. Gas prices? Ballroom. Physical fitness for children? Ballroom.

Senate Republicans saw the opportunity to demonstrably prove their adoration.

Senate Republicans have inserted $1 billion for White House East Wing security enhancements in the immigration enforcement funding bill they hope to rush through Congress this month, setting up a political fight over a ballroom that President Trump has said would be financed with private money.

Donations? Public tax monies? If it’s for the president, does it really matter?

A surprise addition to the measure was the $1 billion proposed by the Judiciary Committee for security work related to Mr. Trump’s East Wing renovation. The measure does not mention the president’s proposed new ballroom, which is being challenged in court, but Mr. Trump has insisted that a main reason for the project is to enhance security.

Nothing screams presidential security like gold gilt on the walls of a room large enough to hold 1000 people, dwarfing the White House. It remains unclear whether there will be a neon “Trump” sign over the door or it will just be carved into the lintel. Hey, secure Corinthian capitals don’t come cheap, you know.

In the grand scheme of spending funds to grow the deficit, which now exceeds gross domestic product, throwing in another billion frankly won’t change much. Sure, the funds could be used for other, more salutary, purposes, look food for hungry children or healthcare for the poor, but you can’t put the Trump brand on a box lunch. And one hundred years from now, no one will remember the names of children who starved, but they will still see that monstrosity beside the White House, assuming it hasn’t fallen or been taken down in the meantime. That’s legacy, and that’s what this is all about.

The White House ballroom is the personification of Trump, at least in his mind. Ridiculously gaudy. Absurdly huge. An affront to history and tradition. And most of all, all about Trump. Some might consider how this helps the lives of the MAGA faithful, who voted for lower prices, the return of jobs that were “stolen” by illegals, the revelation of Jeffrey Epstein’s pedo co-conspirators and the Trump’s skinsuit of manliness when he’s never willingly faced more than a papercut. Yet, they aren’t put off by his obsession with a ballroom, a venue they will never get to enter no matter how deeply then bow to their liege.

I’m a lover of historic structures, like the White House. I am not a lover of Trump’s aesthetic. Having seen Trump Tower from the inside, it does not reflect good taste, even if Trump says it’s “beautiful,” one of his favorite descriptors whether appropriate or not. Having despoiled the Oval Office with the sort of gold doodads that poor people believe make them look rich, there is little hope that Trump’s vision of the greatest ballroom in the world won’t be a tacky disaster.

But the biggest problem is that the ballroom is hardly the most significant problem facing the United States, and yet it remains Trump’s obsession as he continues to pretend his war of choice in Iran is going great and the groundlings of America are happy to go without food, gas or healthcare, as long as they get a ballroom. Even if it costs them a billion.