It was raw, irritating and urgent as ever to be Iranian with iranian.com filling our tortured need for friendship, affection and acceptance. We are alone again. You and I. You and I. Alone again. We are sitting in the Julia Morgan Theater. Freezing. It is cold. It is 16 March in the year 2002. The Iranians with one American couple have gathered to celebrate and laugh. Son can you hear me? Whether I went home or stayed there would be a price to pay. The wooden theater was dark like the inside of a Japanese Temple. You could just barely...