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During my three hours trip to San Jacinto Mountains, and on the way back to Los Angeles I listened to a song from Tom Waits' Alice over and over: Watch Her Disappear.
For years I have been addicted to Tom Waits. I discovered him sometime in 1990, or 1991. I listened to Frank's Wild Years at a friend’s house, where we used to listen to music and drink alcohol, both being offenses punishable under Iranian law.
I remember I discovered Tom Waits the same night I drank Stolichnaya vodka for the first time. In a country where you didn’t have a CD store, in a country where you couldn’t find any drink other than terrible homemade raisin vodkas, "TomWaits/Stolichnaya" was a great mixture, a heavenly pleasure.
Tom Waits reminds me of Tehran, the city I hate and the city I love, both for the same reasons: for all the pleasures and sufferings that makes its character, and all the sorrows it carries on its shoulders.
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