On Christmas Eve I found myself camping next to the Golden Gate Bridge.  It was pleasantly warm, views magnificent, whiskey flowing, waves undulating, conversations predictable.  Around midnight, on schedule like a European train, I spotted Santa soaring over the bay towards San Francisco!  My companions were all rubber-stamped hippies with their medicinal medical pot papers and one of them had a gun.   He aimed it at Santa and pulled the trigger, trimming Santa’s beard with no harm done.   As he aimed again and I tackled this hippy and stuck his trigger-finger in the fire, scalding it to a stump.  This was a story of how a Jew saved Christmas.

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