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February 12, 2005
A Long Story Starting With Pancakes
Everyone wakes up craving pancakes. Eric and Sun help me to carry my bags to my new apartment in Toritsu Daigaku. Knowing that Ando also lives here, we call him to get advice on restaurants in the area. We quickly conclude there is no good option, and head instead to Daikanyama, where Eric thinks he knows a place that serves pancakes. It turns out to be a place that serves waffles, and only waffles. Their menu is pink, and filled with dainty, confectionary waffle dishes accompanied by fresh fruits, or sprinkled with cinnamon and whipped cream. There isn’t a single member of the male sex in the place. Sun says he wants more of a man’s portion of food. We leave.
We eventually meet Ando, continue searching, and arrive at another restaurant of which i dont remember the name. There, two of us order a pasta special with bacon and tomato sauce. Another orders a chicken curry, and I order some kind of maguro donburi. We never found pancakes, but the food we do eat is excellent. From daikanyama we walk to nakameguro. Eric stops to get a haircut. As that’s happening Sun, Ando and I go sit in a café. We order two sakura cola floats, and one regular. Ando and Sun meet informally about his possible album release. We talk about records and how shopping for and buying them in Japan is so much better than in the US. Eric joins us again, Ando leaves, and soon after we all take off. Sun and I go to the W+K office to use the internet. Upon entering, Shin and Shun stop us a moment to read a script they’re in production on for Nike Bukatsu. Upon our reading and understanding it, they are vindicated, as for some reason the director they are working with doesn’t seem to get it. Shin takes an additional 15 minutes after this to bitch about the job and rail on everyone involved.
We browse the internet for a while. I call Kenji. Sun calls Mooog. He invites us to dinner, and thus begins a highly interesting evening at an extremely Lynchian restaurant... nantoka no maruken. This was among the strangest restaurants I’ve been to. If you tried to design something as crazy as this place, with the stated and focussed intent of doing so, you would still never come close. It feels as if you’re in the belly of an old clipper ship. Everything has got a sepia-tone to it, like there is a haze in the air. The windows are actually portholes. Behind one of them there is a female mannequin posing. A huge, archaic-looking world map is on one wall. On the wall, there are at least two original prints by renowned graphic artist Tadanori Yokoo: A duotone of a snow-topped mountain sits on the horizon; a photoshop-quality gradient, maybe from light green to purple fills the background. A circle and square or two float in neon pink, or perhaps shiny gold. Mooog informs us that some of the other paintings are by Yokoo’s daughter. The captain of this boat-like restaurant, with long stringy black hair, fish-like lips, and a whisper for a voice, soon brings everyone’s drinks. I’m having a Guiness. There is only one other party of two there, who soon leave, and then it’s just us. The captain apparently also runs the galley. And his food turns out to be not half-bad. After eating we actually have a fairly long visit and conversation with the guy, but I’m not even going to get into it.
After we finally leave, Mooog invites us to his home, which is quite near the ICC communications center, Hatsudai. We buy some beer at a nearby konbini. Sun and Moog discuss Sun’s music. Moog has an huge collection of vinyl, in the same room where his son plays Playstation 2, Gamecube, and Nintendo 64, all of which are hooked to one TV. I speculate on what kind of life this kid is going to lead, being born with access to this completely obscene music collection right in his own fucking living room. The culmination of probably over thirty years of hard-core collecting from the most obscure shops in the most record-centric city in the world. On one hand, I think, wow, he doesn’t need to seek out any of his own shit. But then Sun comes up with the smarter conclusion, that since his Dad owns all this, that just means he’s going to be listening to all of that. Mikie comes over, maybe around 3:30 or 4. I fall asleep, or go into some sort of daze soon after. I vaguely remember traveling home, half-asleep with Sun on the train. He goes back to Eric’s. I go back to my new place in Toritsudai.
Posted by shane at February 12, 2005 07:00 PM