Monday, November 25, 2002

. . . motokick his 'kerchief, and I in my cap . . . 

Robert here wishing I was more poetic. Today was Momus’ last day in Tokyo (for the time being at least), so I decided to put together a little impromptu "sayonara" party for him in Nakameguro. Actually, party is too strong a word, for it really just turned out to be a small group friends removed from one another by a little less than six degrees of separation. In any event, I’m sure Nick was under the assumption that he'd have to endure yet another tedious night of solo conversation with me. That’s why I think that he was rather pleasantly surprised to enter Depot after our 10 min. walk in the rain (during which the ceremonial handing over of that most infamous yellow bike to me took place) and find Yo-Yo (French freak, tour organizer, music lover, international girl of mystery and unemployment), sawako (digital mutation girl), motokick (the toughest mother fucker in all of Musashi-Kouganei), and Yuka (a charming shrinking violet/singer) sitting there in their party clothes waiting for us! Shizu (Momus’ good friend and art bitch whom i had heard so very much about but was only meeting for the first time) and Kaori (aspiring clothing/accessory princess of Daikanyama) would both eventually join us later, as their busy schedules prevented them from being there any earlier. Anyway, the conversation ebbed and flowed as it always tends to. Though tonight, after a well-timed and strategic seating switch-a-roo maximizing the mono/bi/trilingualities of the partygoers, things really seemed to kick into high gear. Deals were struck and undone, promises made and broken, new memories made and old ones dusted off, and pics were snapped by our charming waitress (who seems to have a song about her on the forthcoming album) documenting it all. Fitting! In other words, the party was a success. As we said what would soon become our penultimate good-byes, took in the exhibit that was up ("Underground” artists from England vs. Japanese ones), and prepared to head out into the rain, I turned back to find Nick engaged in conversation with a relax magazine higher-up sitting at an adjacent table. Oh right, this isn’t good-bye...more like hello. Hello, hello! And in typical form, Nick snapped a few quick shots on the way back to Nakame station. A pachinko parlor, a neon sign, and a few others whose subject i couldn’t locate. I agreed with him that the rain gave everything a “Blade Runner” look. A final flurry of photos preceded our farewells, as we each went our separate ways. The charinko-rockers on their bikes back to Yoyoji and Sancha, Momus wondering off alone, Kaori and Yuka heading out away from the center of the universe on the Toyoko-line, and motokick his 'kerchief, and I in my cap, settling down for a long winter's train ride out into the western suburbs, talking all the while about Los Angeles and Aomori-ken, and why we have to get back to these places as soon as possible. But for now, as the trappings of Chuo-line culture become more and more ill fitting, I’ll have to work out all the details as things go along. There is no time for that now. But thanks to a brilliant man from Scotland which whom I’ve had the pleasure of acquainting myself with over the past few months, I remain hopeful.

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