The third weekend of January in Miami this year was Art Deco Weekend coinciding neatly with Miami's year-long 100th anniversary, though it is difficult sometimes to relate the beach island with mainland Miami. Two different worlds, beyond which are other smaller worlds, such as 'Little Havana' where conversation must have been more heated than usual, given the latest US-Cuba 'rapprochement.' Congregants on Miami Beach, where much of Ocean Drive was closed off to traffic on two days, were more interested in good times and good shopping, it would appear. See, Mamma, the acrobat on stilts, a Carmen Miranda lookalike throwing kisses into the crowd. Lincoln Road as usual awash in commercial offers, a slog of familiar brands along the palm-bedecked strip. The blessings of sunshine cover the shady side of life. 'Welcome to the capital of South America' ocean banners might have read in tribute to the investment offshore citizens have made in the city. One of Sunday afternoon's highlights: a bandstand erected just behind the dunes on park land, complete with bar and dance floor. A couple maneuvering with aplomb to the rhythms of the Robert Rodriguez jazz orchestra attired in sport shirts and dark shades against the waning afternoon sun. Folding chairs for audience members, among them a comely lass in a bra of fake leaves and long shirt. Farther south on the beach a manicured park with a newly-completed fishing pier that has a stone sink with hose for cleaning the catch, such as it is. A man with a fishing pole on the channel side calling over to his wife some 50 yards away: their lines had caught in the water. A dog tethered to a post at the entry since NO dogs, etc., were allowed on the walkway. So goes a Sunday afternoon in Miami, languorous and deceiving.