There are fictional utopias and paradise gardens, like Shangri-La, where people hardly age and the azaleas are always in bloom. Then there's Palm Beach, the Florida resort -- a heaven on earth for families who can afford a few million dollars for a property that they will probably only visit for a few weeks a year. What a joy it is. I last visited in the 1980s. It's not merely unchanged, but actually, in terms of the number of beguiling, Spanish-ish buildings, better. One of them houses the Palm Beach Preservation Foundation, which patrols taste in these parts. It's less than a decade old.