The night was one to remember, especially after we learned that the Brazilian delegation in attendance was infected with COVID-19. Thankfully, none of us got sick.
As the sun rose the next morning, mimosas and cash flowed. A giant brunch raised millions for the president’s reelect from industrialists, moguls, and patriots inspired by his transformational leadership. Unlike Beltway fundraisers, few attendees wanted anything from Trump other than for him to keep fighting! The well-wishing is infectious.
Washington Post reporter David Fahrenthold says no member of Congress has stayed at Mar-a-Lago more than I have. Thanks for noticing, David.
He thinks it’s a knock, but then, he isn’t invited. Besides, I know it’s the best way to serve my country. If you want to be powerful, you have to be proximate. Is a blogger for Jeff Bezos really going to lecture me about the corrosive effects of money in politics? These bloggers-for-billionaires profess to hate the player, the game, and now even the field. If you need help knowing which dates I was there, please use this chapter as a partial guide.
For politics and policy, Mar-a-Lago can’t be matched. A translation reinforces the concept of transition itself—“Sea to Lake.” For me it was more “backbencher to presidential counselor,” even if only unofficially. Nontraditional settings are indeed my cup of spritzer and where the real work gets done.
The marble busts in the Capitol are great and august (and dead), but no place is bustier than Mar-a-Lago. Plastic surgeon members are happy to point and brag over their tradecraft, funded in part by Florida’s arcane and unfair alimony laws. At least in South Florida, as opposed to Washington, the facades hide the slightest insecurity—rather than the soulless corruption. Everyone gets the face they deserve in Florida. Not so in Washington.
President Trump has a unique ability to synthesize information from a bevy of people and stimuli. What other president could build a coalition including Mike Pence and Kanye West? Robert Kraft and Diamond and Silk? Mar-a-Lago is the big, happy, weird intersection of it all. Everyone is having fun and celebrating all the winning, though never for personal benefit—that would be tacky. It’s for America!
Trump enjoys seeing other people happy. It recharges him. It’s why the rallies matter so much to him. At the club he can let loose a little. Once he even danced in a sombrero for an acquaintance’s wedding. But he never stops working on matters large and small. And in the contest for the president’s policy indulgence, you must be present to win.
January 2, 2020
Mar-a-Lago. Main dining promenade.
“Come over here. Pull up a chair. I didn’t know you were here.”
“Your daughter Tiffany invited me, sir.”
Enough pleasantries. I had to make my argument while POTUS was chewing his meat loaf. Otherwise, he was talking. I had to give him something else to chew on.
“Mr. President, Tucker Carlson and I had to stop us from going to war with Iran once before—when they downed that drone. Are we going to have to do it again?”
I had interrupted Kevin McCarthy’s one-on-one dinner with the president. Kevin didn’t love the third wheel. I didn’t care. Besides, I was about to go on Shannon Bream’s Fox News show and would be among the first to frame the U.S. air strikes killing Iranian Quds Force General Qasem Soleimani. When Trump knows you’re going on TV he’s eager to advise and banter. Stagecraft is statecraft. President Trump and I respect the airtime.
The president immediately got Tucker on the phone.
“I’m with Gaetz.”
(Inaudible response.)
“No, he’s not with a woman.”
(Inaudible response.)
“I know, he’s an animal.”
The talk of war and peace and women continued as the vanilla ice cream was devoured. Two scoops, please. The president made the right call—kill Soleimani to avoid a war, not start one. He reset deterrence, defined the exquisite reach of U.S. lethality, and made thousands of Americans safer in the Middle East and elsewhere. At Mar-a-Lago, he could get perspectives beyond the Beltway. I’m honored to help curate just a few.
“Write that down! Give me three paragraphs.” President Trump will regularly assign snap written exams to his advisors when discussing ideas. He knows a sizzling rhetorical approach or phrase can win the day. He is a master brander. I’ve scratched out some of my best prose under pressure at the Resolute Desk, on Air Force One, and riding in the Beast, as the armored presidential limo is known. But hearing the president share a strong ambition for peace, not more war, I was eager to help him. My scribblings on a Mar-a-Lago cocktail napkin calling for Iran to accept peace remain among my proudest contributions to my country.
January 1, 2020
9:00 PM, Mar-a-Lago off-site security checkpoint.
“Sir, there appears to be something metal in your back pocket. Do you mind checking it again?”
The wand kept beeping. I was annoyed, tired, and frustrated. And then terribly embarrassed.
New Year’s Eve had not gone well. I had invited a date I adored to Key West to enjoy a celebration with two of my best friends—Dr. Jason Pirozzolo and Savara Hastings, who own a home together in the Conch Republic. The dancing was fun, the music the best. Apparently, the adoration went only one way. Not even a ball-drop kiss. Expectations were unfulfilled to say the least. Can’t win ’em all.
Alone and romantically crestfallen on a Key West beach, I got a call from Tiffany Trump. “Why aren’t you here at Mar-a-Lago? Michael and I adopted kittens and they want to meet you.” Tiffany and her fantastic boyfriend Michael know I’m a sucker for animals and dearly miss having them while serving in Congress. Mar-a-Lago and kittens were just the pick-me-up I needed. I started driving.
Members of Congress get waved into the Capitol and White House without the hassle of metal detectors or scanners. Not so at the Winter White House. When I realized what I had pulled out of my back pocket, I could feel the humiliation wash over me like an intense wave
