(“Reza Pahlavi was born in Tehran, Iran on October 31, 1960 to the late Shah of Iran and Empress Farah Pahlavi. As Crown Prince of Iran and the oldest of four siblings, he left Iran at the age of 17 for Air Force training, during which time the establishment of the clerical regime in Iran prevented his return to his homeland. Despite being forced to live in exile, Reza Pahlavi’s commitment and patriotic duty to Iran endures.” Photo courtesy the Crown Prince’s website . He is almost a neighbor.)

Iran is one of those irritants that seems a long way away. Most mornings, anyway.
I know it takes several days to get there by aircraft carrier, even if you start from Japan. For most folks, the Mercedes Mullahs and that strange maniacal President who cannot afford a decent tie to go with his suits are a sort of theoretical threat.

Maybe they will get weapons of mass destruction, close the Strait of Hormuz, something wild. It is something we would generally ignore, in a saner world. But it is not.

My pals and I call ourselves “Cold Warriors,” since the formative time in military service was performed when the Soviets were the main justification for our existence. Of course, what we actually were doing was deploying to the waters of the Northern Arabian Sea to provide a counter to the assertive outrages of the Revolutionary Islamic State.

And it is still going on. The deposed Shah moved here to America, eventually. We were all twined up together, after all, and the Iranian fighter pilot candidates down at Pensacola were a common sight at the PX with those wild swooping caps.
One night, shortly after commissioning and during the phase of my life when the sight of a Marine in working greens was still enough to send quivers down my spine, I heard a attentive knocking at my door.

I opened it and a plump young local woman stood there, looking for someone named “Muhammed,” who I understood to be a primary flight student at the base. I assured her that Muhammed had moved on, and went back to bed. But we were all wrapped up in Iran, and vice versa, going back to the CIA coup that installed Reza Pahlvavi on the Peakcock Throne.

I was going to tell you about the local Pahlavi Dynasty, and the buzz that is going through the Iranian expat community. The family is right here in town, oddly located not far from the headquarters of the Agency that put them in absolute power.

I have been muttering about what this is all about for the last few days- the Syrians in their multi-ethnic bloodbath, the external regional players, the deep and bitter schism between the flavors of Islam, and the fact that I am not quite sure which political bed we are waking up in each morning.

I understand the Shah’s son is willing to take up the burden of ruling again, or at least that is what the Expats say.
I will have more on that tomorrow, ins’hallah. Stay tuned.
Copyright 2012 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com