Althogh our history is filled with the names of dictators who died a miserable life.The hunger for money and power prevents these animals from learning

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The answer to this question is easy and probably common knowledge. However, I thought may be I use the current situation in the Middle East, and write you a personal story. A true story which happened to me to show you, how life in Middle East is and why we hate our governments. Fortunately the story is not gruesome and has some soap opera material in it to make more fun to read.

The year was 1974.I had worked in city orphanages of Tehran for two years. I worked in the counseling center for children 8-12 years old. It was the first counseling center in Iran, and it was run by two American educated Psychologists .There was also a British educated psychiatrist. They were great people and it was an honor to work for them.At the end of my second year the professors made a deal with the ‘Queen Farah Charity Society" to make a similar place for the orphanages which belonged to the queen. The new place was glorious. Our job was 1) counseling, 2) Participate in research programs which translated and normed American and British Psychological tests for Iran. The job was great and I was able to publish my first test. The only thing different about this place was that it was under the umbrella of the Ministry of Court, in other words we were elevated to be servants of his majesty the Shah of Iran. It was a terrible name, and an awful title. But it was a rich environment for work. We had access to anything we wanted. The place was a show case for foreigners and we were a part of it. The center for the new borns was as nice as a castle, the chandeliers were from Paris, and rumor had it that they had paid $30000 for it. Above everything else our identification card was the ID of ‘Ministry of the court of the king". It carried a low level security clearance. It was great for mischievous behavior of a 22 year old. For instance If a cup would stop you for passing the red light, you would give him the new ID rather than the drivers license, therefore you did not have to bribe him, and every morning you would get a salute from the officer. It opened many doors and shout many mouth. After all we were the "Servants of his majesty the shah of Iran". It was also a very good cover, as almost all of us were working against him underground.

The Friends?

I was madly in love with a classmate, no touching or kissing, just talking. Both families hated the idea. Her family were thinking that she is educated and pretty and can get married to whoever she wants , why should she get entangled with me, come to US and risk everything. My family was more mad they were afraid that my entanglement with her would prevent me from my schooling.

The elopement Plan

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We came up with a plan to finish school in Iran .Then go to the US and then get married with American laws and at that point they couldn't do any thing about it.

The Disco

One evening when we were all together we went to a move, and then to a disco, and got drunk, I was dancing with some one when I noticed that my future wife to be is dancing with my best friend and kissing. I did not know what to do ,I did not want to look like a soar looser , I would have loved to get the so called best friend out and go one to one , but that was even worse because then every body would know. I just took the first opportunity and got out and drove home .I was sad, mad and drunk. I noticed my face was getting wet, I touched the eyes and, here I was crying. At first thought I got happy I had not cried since my adolescence. But this was no good, I felt like an idiot. In one night I had lost my future wife and my best friend.

Self Pity:

I got home and did not sleep all night .the next day was spent in bed feeling sorry for myself. In the evening my father arrived, I borrowed his car which was much faster than mine. I stopped by the local bar, ordered Vodka, drank it the old fashion way, a big glass 90% full of Smirnoff, with a little Pepsi on top to make the taste tolerable, drank the whole thing in the first attempt, filled up the glass again, same way, and out the door.

SPEED:

Began the ride through the mountains of northern Tehran and then the road to "Shemshak", this was the road that we would drive on and listen to Persian classical music. It was a scenic road, very pretty, day and night, in the mountains with deep valleys next to it. A person with a little brain would not drive more than 30 Kilometers/an hour. One small error and you would fall more than 1000 yards. I was driving far too fast. I wanted to let go and let the car fly off but it did not happen, may be too cowered ,may be too drunk, may be that woman and that bantered were not worth dying for.

The Road Back:

Not as drunk, but drunk enough, the rood was steep down. Driving faster and faster. Just a few more miles and I will be home. Suddenly a car comes out of a small alley right at me. It took all I knew, to stop the car without hitting him. It was a Rambler with military colors and license plate. I missed the bantered by a couple of inches. We could have been killed in a heart bit. I put my head on the wheel. The driver got out of his car, a kind of a chubby guy in cheap suits and a tie, may be 50-55 years old. He came towards me and , in an obnoxious manner told me "hey boy can,t you drive a littler slower" .I did not have that many choices again, I wanted to get out of the car and just beet the crap out of him. But he was more than 30 years older than me, too unseemly for a young man to beat up an old man, not honorable, totally unchivalrous, and not manly. I decided to just go, changed gears and sped away. Only a mile from the house, I noticed a car behind me honking like mad. I did not think too much of it, and turned left to our street, the car followed me, now I see it is the same idiot, he wants a fight. I will be glad to give it to him. But we are only 1 blocks from our house it is late, if I go towards home, there will be a fight right at our door steps, my father will come out, it will be a giant embarrassing mess. The best way was to turn around the block get to the expressway again and then take him on. A couple of fast moves and I am in the high way .I stopped the car and jumped out with full intention of demolishing him, chivalrous or unchivalrous, he is going to get the fight he wants.

The Gun;

As soon as I stopped he stopped too, he pulled a gun out, told me "hands up".

I realized I am dealing with some one who is missing some major marbles. I replied that is ok man here are the hands, just take it easy with that shooter, he begins to brag "even if you were a bird I would have caught you". It just totally did not make sense, who is this jerk, what does he want from me. I told him why you don't frisk me, check my ID. But he was too scared to get close.

Then it downed on me. There was some urban guerrilla warfare on the streets. There was a bounty on their head .this idiot thinks I am one of them. Since I did not talk to him and sped away, he is convinced I am going to get him some real money. Obviously he in not a cup. He is driving military car, he is in civilian cloth. No police badge, no guts to frisk me .he is actually scared, he is making errors. If I was a real communist gorilla he would have been dead. I told him why don't you get on your radio and call for back up, he is so scared that if he gets to the car I am going to run or kill him. How can an idiot like this have a gun? In Iran nobody has a gun except the armed forces.

ASSISSTANCE:

Mr. Idiot is getting desperate. He needs back up but he does not know how to go about it.

He tried to get a few cars to stop. But as soon as they would see the gun in his hand they would go faster, nobody wanted to be a part of this. A military jeep showed up. There were a few soldiers in the jeep. One of them looked sick. They looked like they were on their way to the army hospital. They stopped to help; he goes to the driver and shows his ID. One of the soldiers come out to help the rest went for the help.

The Integrated committee of SAVAK and police against terrorism:

Finally I can hear the sirens. I have been standing with my hands in the air for hour. Cars were coming from different directions , all of them are black Mercedes some have regular sirens the other ones have little red mobile ones, some are police and some are civilian. These guys know what they are doing no body got out of their car but in less than one minute all the roads were blocked and the midnight traffic was rerouted. I have heard about these guys, one of my friend's brother is a captain among them, they are called: The Integrated Committee of SAVAK and Police Against Terrorism: a bunch of ass kicking motherfuckers who go around the town all day long following every lead and when they catch a guerrilla, they torture the guy like hell, the best of the best to do the worst of the worst. Their next move was just like the movies; several of the cars turn around and come toward me until all of the lights are on me and Mr. Idiot .Obviously they have practiced this before. A door opens and a low level cup gets out. In the front seat of that car was a major, looked like he was s the commander of the out fit. The cup told me to turn around and quickly frisked me. Then he ordered me towards the car. Mr. Idiot was there too, he was showing the major his ID. It sounded like he was a driver for a general. Now I am really mad, being held at gun point for half hour by a DRIVER FOR A GENERL. If I had made a wrong move the SOB would have shot me. All of this for a reward money. I told myself keep it cool these guys are trigger happy ,they are paid murderers , Just try to come out of this alive. Now it was my turn the major told me what happened. Before I say anything I took the ID from the "minstery of the Shah's court" out and gave it to him .He looked at me and the ID and then he saluted to the crown on my ID. This was the first and last time in my life that I saw someone saluting at an ID card. Before I get started with my talk, he got on his Microphone and said a few code words, and most of the cars left as if nothing has ever happened. Mr. Idiot screamed "but major I am suspicious of this guy". The major told him why did not you check him out first, don't you see that he works for his majesty. This time they both saluted for the king's name. Major looks at me and says this is an error go home. I said go home? What do you mean go home? This guy is not police, he did have the right to pursue me or stop me, he does not have the right to arrest any body .He did not show me his badge or introduce himself. One wrong move and I would have been dead. He said you are right but you are an educated man you see that he is from military and I am a police man , I cannot arrest him .You have to go to the police station, they will call the MPs and then you can file charges. I said but you know that the moment that you are out of here he is going to run, and then what am I going to take to the police station. He said that's fair. He got one of his own cards out and told Mr. Idiot to give him his badge. He wrote the name down and said donate worry I have to file airport it will be all their, and told the driver "go'. Here I am mentally exhausted, emotionally drained, half drunk, looking at Mr. Idiot. He jumped in his car and left too.

The night of pain:

I got my dead body home, I couldn't sleep all night. Bad headache, angry, future wife kissing my best friend. Standing in the highway with my hands in the air. Mr. Idiot was a freaking driver for a general, and I had a personal visit by: The Integrated Committee of SAVAK and Police against Terrorism. Who is in charge of this country any way? Stayed up all night tossing and turning. Early in the morning my father shows up to take his keys. He looked at me and said: are you ok? I lost it again and began to cry. Then he really got concerned. I told him the story from A-Z. He said you should be glad that she did it before you got more serious with her, now give me that card. I said I am supposed to go to the police station to file a report. He throw a few hundred dollars at me and said find some real friends and go get laid. Let me take care of it.

SWEET REVENGE:

I finally got some sleep. I went to work in the afternoon. I told the professors and coworkers about my ordeal, each one was coming up with a different take on what had happened .Then suddenly from nowhere Mr. Idiot shows up. Looked like some one had given him a personality transplant. He said loudly SALAM, and then kissed my hand and apologized in every way he could .He dropped to the floor to kiss my shoes. I backed off and told him what kind of a gimmick is this. He said "I don't know your father has talked to people well above my head .They are going to take two of my stripes and I am being transferred to the border of Pakistan, among Balouchies, to fight narcotic trafficking. I will be dead in two month. I read him a poem by Saadi "That is the best for you and all other people". Every body laughed at him, they were all out of their rooms including the professors. The lady who was the administrative director of the place yelled at him. Why don't you leave, don't you think you have bothered every body enough. He was in tears and begging for our help. He was repeating himself ,get your father to forgive me , I will make it right, I will do what ever you want, how about I order Shishkabab for all of you. That was just too much. I yelled at him stop insulting every body, you are trying to bribe me with a meal just get out. He begged Drxx to intervene. Drxx was the eler of the group and most educated one .He said well abbas he is admitting to his stupidity, why don't you penalize him and let him go. .Mr idiot looked at me with a big smile and said please listen to your teacher. I told Drxx, if that is your opinion then you render the verdict. He said well lets humiliate him more; he called the old cleaning lady and told her. You render the verdict. The cleaning lady enjoyed the elevation in the ranks and told him how much do you make in a month, he gave some number, she said then go to the cashier and donate one month of your income to the orphans'. Mr Idiot said but I do not have it. She said then gets it, because if you don't get me the recite by the end of my shift, I am going to double it .Mr idiot run out of the office to make his payment, meanwhile one of the friends told that my father was on phone. I said Salam; he said he called to see if he made it there or not. I said yes but how did you change everything. He said "do not ask me what I can not answer" .Now what are you going to do with him, you know you have got him by the balls. I said well ladies here told him to pay one month of income to the orphans. He got mad and hangs up the phone.

Authors Bio:

I was born and raised in Tehran Iran .I came to the U.S in 1976 to study psychology. With time decided to hang my hat here and became a U.S. citizen.

My areas of interest in psychology were varied. However I mostly worked with stroke patients. I minored in history and Anthropology in college. I practiced as a clinical neuropsychologist and as an assistant professor of psychology in Northeastern Ohio Medical University. I have written articles, books, and Invented treatments for serious neurological conditions. My last area of interest in neuropsychology was in research for treatment of hemianopsia.

I fought in Iranian revolution, Iranian politics.
I retired a couple of years ago and I spend my extra time playing Tar which is a Persian instrument. Tar is grand father of Guitar , but it is much more delicate and can play musical pieces that one can not play on Piano or Guitar.
The pleasures of life come from playing Tar ,reading history books, blogging and being with my family. The painful part of life is dealing with Iranian government and its supporters. I am an atheist , however , I respect freedom of religions.
I am a Democrat.