Mar-a-Lago, Christmas Morning

There’s the service entrance, with the Palm Beach County Sheriff’s Office cruiser, and deputies with whistles controlling traffic, and the Sheriff’s Office watchtower, and across the street from it the new, extra parking lot, where the guests of Mar-a-Lago, Donald Trump’s private club in Florida, queue up to have their vehicles searched for bombs by agents in Santa hats.

And there’s the main entrance, around the corner, with the Neo-Moorish gate flanked by statues of some kind of gnome holding up a lantern, and a good view of the main clubhouse building and the giant, undulating American flag, about twice as big as allowable under town ordinances. (Trump settled a protracted legal dispute over the flag by negotiating the fine levied by the town into a charitable donation, which the Donald J. Trump Foundation then paid with money solicited from third parties.)

And there’s a Sheriff’s Office Cruiser parked by that main entrance too, and the guys with sunglasses and whistles and latex gloves, and Secret Service in the bushes, manning some kind of optical equipment; and the blacked-out Suburbans with strobe-lights blinking, parked on the verge.

But just next to the bridge to the mainland that runs over Bingham Island is a spot where anyone can get a glimpse into Mar-a-Lago across the intracoastal waterway; and Kevin Pargas, 25, a local resident and amateur sports-fisherman, is just setting up…

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