The barbarians are in the mansion. Right now, Friday afternoon in Washington, if all has gone to schedule, the sidekicks of Donald Trump will be invading the West Wing, pushing through stately doors like Visigoths storming Rome, trying out the desks for size, shouting loud, showy complaints to each other about the modest furnishings and confined spaces.
But maybe they are just suppressing an unexpected and overpowering sense of awe. I hope so.
Trump himself will be immune to it. He may have already found the Oval Office is so much smaller than the one he probably has in his tower, and the residence not a patch on his penthouse, that he is going back to Manhattan. Either that, or he could move into the new Trump Tower on Pennsylvania Avenue.
I hope not, but former National MP Michael Cox, who hosted him for a day in New Zealand when Cox was a trustee of the Casino Control Authority, doubts Trump will find the White House a suitable abode. Back in September Cox speculated in this paper that Trump "will build his own home and office in Washington from which he will operate as President using his own people and rules".
It is a chilling thought. At least if he takes up residence in the White House and sits at the desk in the Oval Office, the awesome position he has been given might impress itself on him and the dignity and conventions he flouted during the campaign might seem worth respecting. When the sidekicks come into his office the famous room might make them feel like responsible courtiers of state rather than wideboys trying to impress a boss who needs constant flattery.