A night with Hooman and friend [Exclamation!]

Last night Hooman and I went to see an Iranian singer, at a small concert arranged by a not-for-profit from California that promotes Iranian underground artists. "Underground" because Iran is a repressive state, not because the artists themselves are subversive. There were about 600-700 people in attendance, mostly Iranian ex-pats, with a sprinkling of foreigners like myself, who are either dating or married to an Iranian. The Iranian community is incestuous, where everybody knows everybody, and everybody gossips about everybody. I saw some friends there that I hadn't seen in a while, including Hooman's buddy Farhad, as well as people I know in passing. There was a lot of covert people-watching and squealed greetings to "good friends" sitting across the room, and shouts of "We must do lunch!" I even got an enthusiastic "Happy birthday!" Around Iranians, everything's in CAPS! With an exclamation point!

The show was good. I don't speak Persian, so I concentrated on the physical aspects of the music: the chord progressions, the integration of classical Persian melodies into the songs, his vocals. After the concert we split off from the crowd and had late-night Turkish kebab with Farhad, who's an amateur pastry chef/cake maker, and we grilled him about cakes because now we're fascinated by cakes. In fact, the cake I baked a few nights ago has been nearly all gobbled up, because Hooman and I are pigs, which means the time is ripe to bake a new cake. Most likely, we will make a layer cake, whose formation and assemblage Farhad had spelled out in excrutiating detail over supper.

Farhad and I nearly got into an argument about politics during intermission, because he seemed to suggest that the country is too right-leaning, when in fact the country is evenly split. (And what of it? Even if the country is right-leaning, that's something worth trying to understand, and maybe even appreciate.) He also uttered such nonsense as "there is no such thing as 'fact' in politics," saying that it's all propaganda (or ideology, as he wrongly called it). I was about to begin arguing that, of course there are such things as facts: today Obama went to X town and spoke to a crowd of X people. The theme of his speech was X. McCain went to Y and addressed a crowd of Y size, and the theme of his speech was Y. Obama said X, which is consistent with what he said ten years ago at the Illinois state Senate. McCain said Y, which is consistent with a lie. But the music started just as I was about to say those things, and we never got around to finishing the conversation.

Had I had the chance, I would have argued that life is real, not just spin, and that it's important to understand that a real person is about to be elected President, with a real past and real feelings. What he does will have real consequences.