This essay was first published in October 2010. It's about my musical journey up until 2010.
I’ve flown into Atlanta on my way home to Columbus, Georgia, countless times in the last four decades. It’s impossible to arrive again without flashing back to the trips that occurred on the occasion of the deaths of my parents in Jan. 2002 and Dec. 2003. There’s a certain emptiness caused by the fact that though I’m returning “home” to the place where I spent the first eighteen years of my life, that it’s not the same because my parents aren’t there anymore.
In traditional Moslem culture, all marriages are arranged. Once the bride and groom’s families complete their negotiations on dowry terms (the money and goods paid to the groom’s family as compensation for assuming the “burden” of supporting the addition to the groom’s family), the marriage ceremony is arranged. Marriages are a time for large celebrations featuring conspicuous consumption.
No, I have not traveled to Iran, but my across-the-street neighbor just returned from a one month visit to his hometown of Shiraz, Iran...
No, I have not traveled to Iran, but my across-the-street neighbor just returned from a one month visit to his hometown of Shiraz, Iran. My neighbor’s Iranian name is Parvez. Parvez has lived in the states for almost thirty years. He’s an artist as well as being a capable handyman, i.e. a “jack of all trades”. . .