Iran Was Always the Mehdis

It was 1978 outside the Valli, a college bar and restaurant by the University of Minnesota. A friend was backing up to park his ancient Buick in front of the hangout when a Firebird, complete with flaming avian decal on the hood, swooped into the spot. The driver got out. Iranian guy. He beams and raises his arms and says, “I WIN! I WIN!” Then he went inside to shoot pool.

There were a lot of Iranian guys at the U of M. They seemed like rich playboy types marinated in Drakkar who’d ski in the Alps with cosmopolitan parents who wore outsized sunglasses. (Dad was in the import-export business.) They had money and rakish insouciance. The guy who stole the parking spot and crowed about his victory summed these guys up, we thought.

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James Lileks

James Lileks blogs at www.lileks.com.

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It was 1978 outside the Valli, a college bar and restaurant by the University of Minnesota. A friend was backing up to park his ancient Buick in front of the hangout when a Firebird, complete with flaming avian decal on the hood, swooped into the spot. The driver got out. Iranian guy. He beams and raises his arms and says, “I WIN! I WIN!” Then he went inside to shoot pool.

There were a lot of Iranian guys at the U of M. They seemed like rich playboy types marinated in Drakkar who’d ski in the Alps with cosmopolitan parents who wore outsized sunglasses. (Dad was in the import-export business.) They had money and rakish insouciance. The guy who stole the parking spot and crowed about his victory summed these guys up, we thought.