Donald Trump walked out into the bright Florida Sunshine
burning down on the golf course at Mar de Largo. It was sunrise. His favorite
time of the day. He was always up early. His mother had taught him that. A Scot
born and bred she abhorred waste and she would tumble him out of bed at the
crack of dawn. He could her voice now even fifty years later. “Up and at them
laddie…times a wasting…don’t be a slugabed….it is time to seize the day!”
He strode out onto the grounds behind the eighteen tee.
He had managed to give his security detail the slip. His Secret Service agents
were good men but they were too controlling. You can’t go here….you can’t go
there. Wear the vest. Don’t shake hands. Be ready to duck and run at the first
sign of trouble. They thought that since he was a candidate that his life was
in danger and that evil lurked behind every bush. Little did they know about danger?
