Santa Claus is vacationing at South Beach, Miami.  Our paths collided last night in front of a violinist-guitarist duo, whose Spanish-Arabian strokes and strums had lured me across the street.  Though drunken, a bit emaciated, and out of uniform, Santa was wholey recognizable.  The white beard and jolly blue eyes beneath his sunburned forehead gave him away.  Apropos to nothing he told me I was a teacher.  When I affirmed that I was he said, “I know, I just told you that.” Then he smiled knowingly and annointed my forehead with a kiss from his fingertip.