Skip to main content

Posts

“You saw Becky in a commercial?” “Yeah, isn’t that what you were talking about? “No, I meant in person.” “Oh, well no, I haven’t seen her in person. I thought you were talking about that commercial. There was another girl in that commercial that I also thought I recognized. She was in a few stupid flicks and I think in a porno too. I’m not sure what her real name is, but I know she goes by 3 different names; Wendy Wilson, Cindy Gibson and Tara Hawkins.” “That doesn’t rhyme.” Kurt and Thomas looked up to find Chris, the waiter, towering over them. “Excuse me?” Kurt asked, clearly annoyed at Chris’s intrusion. “I said, that doesn’t rhyme.” “What doesn’t rhyme?” “That 3 rd name. It doesn’t rhyme with Gibson or Wilson.” “So what? Who said the names have to rhyme? And who the hell asked you anyway?” “Look, I just figure if you’re gonna go by Cindy Gibson and Mindy Williams…” “It’s Wendy Wilson,” Thomas interjected. “…once you decide to pick a new name you’ll try t...
Post a Comment
Read more
Recent posts
Parisa Parnian grew up in Arizona, after her family immigrated there from Iran when she was four. There wasn’t much of an Iranian community in AZ when she was growing up, which meant there weren’t really any markets or restaurants that catered to the very distinct Persian palette.  Around the time she was in high school in the late 80’s, there was a sudden influx of Iranians- some coming directly from the homeland; others moving to Arizona from California, seeking affordable housing and better quality of life for their kids. As the Iranian community grew, so did the need for cultural resources.  Slowly but surely, the Persian markets and restaurants started sprouting as well as the “discos” and the lavish dinner parties where families had a chance to mix and mingle and check out the options for potential mates for their kids of marriageable age.   "Clueless as I was at 17,  I was also apparently being scoped out by Iranian families as a potential candidate for m...
Post a Comment
Read more
Every now and then Mr. Abbasi would be coming down hard on us due to the length of our hair. At times he would even go to extremes by showing up at our morning announcements with a pair of scissors in his hands, ready to cut off a sizable chunk of the hair of anyone that had already received a few warnings. As a result our local barber shop would always be populated with kids from our school. The barber shop was family owned by an older father and his two younger sons. Many times a grandson, not older than ten, would also be present and help around in the shop. During one of Mr. Abbasi’s raids, I headed for the barber shop in the early afternoon, hoping to beat the expected line. The shop was closed for lunch and afternoon napping but there were already a few people waiting outside. As we made small talk in anticipation of the shop’s opening, the grandson also appeared and went inside to prepare the shop for opening. A few minutes later he came back out with an innovation that very eff...
Post a Comment
Read more
Toronto’s newest cultural district was officially inaugurated Saturday in North York, bringing joy and excitement to the Iranian community in the city. Toronto Mayor Olivia Chow, Coun. Lily Cheng (Willowdale) and member of Parliament for Willowdale Ali Ehsassi joined Persian-Canadians at Centre Park to unveil Little Iran’s sign. “On this Thanksgiving weekend, I want to show my gratitude to the Iranian community for coming together, celebrating,” Chow said Saturday. “Today is really a historic day.” Centre Park was filled with live music, dancing, Persian food and desserts and art shows Saturday afternoon. But, soon, the park will also host its very own Persian garden. Afkham Mardukhi, president of the settlement organization Intercultural Iranian Canadian Resource Centre, said the acknowledgement is truly significant. “We really feel we have two homes,” she said. “It's just another layer of belonging, another layer of recognition by Canadians.” Iranian Women's Orga...
Post a Comment
Read more
Irene and I each had a picture frame hanging from our walls that, while slightly different, each depicted a couple of birds on a tree branch. As Irene’s hung on her wall on the left side I would normally remove it before starting to play soccer inside and hang it back up afterwards. On one occasion in which I forgot to do so, one of my crosses landed on the frame, knocking it off its nail and sending it crashing to the ground. As I cleaned up all the broken glass I realized that I probably would need to give her an explanation that in all likelihood would result in her keeping her bedroom door locked and thus put an end to my soccer games. As a result I retrieved my own bird frame from my room and hung it on her wall instead. I then took her frame and placed it under where it would have hung in my room. Later I would claim to have discovered it there and concluded that it must have fallen at some point. Although the birds in the two frames were different kinds and colors, Irene never...
Post a Comment
Read more