Scugnizzoi Life

Les Sewing Sisters Japan Home Tour: Part 21

Bambou, Serge Gainsbourg’s last girlfriend or wife, is a mystery to me. I know little of her, and there is little information on her in English. They had a ten-year relationship from 1981 until Serge’s passing in 1991. And they have a son, Lucien (Lulu). Her given name is Caroline von Paulus, and she was either born in Villeneuve-sur-Lot, France, or Vietnam. She acted, worked as a fashion model, and made records with Serge Gainsbourg. Her album Made in China is not easy to find, but I did run into a copy of the record in Shibuya’s Disk Union. I bought it because I knew there would be great regret if I passed on this. The album was released in 1989, and it is one of Gainsbourg’s last projects. He must not have been in good shape in those times, yet his genius is as solid as a diamond needle. His work can be all over the map, but he is always Gainsbourg, and that character never dies. And since I’m traveling, I have not heard Made in China. But I know his music from the 1980s, and it can be a hit or miss, but still, I think so highly of him as an artist. Once I’m settled with a turntable, I will write a review.

I went to a wedding party at an Italian Restaurant, Scugnizzo! Located in Chiyoda-Fujimi, not far from the Iidabashi Station. The meal was in many courses throughout the afternoon, with endless wine and champagne. Since I started drinking on this trip, I have been in a happy state of buzzing almost every day. When I don’t drink, the anxieties come out of my pores, and although not a healthy way of dealing with an issue, I’m sort of out of my natural world and find myself not in too much control. One has to take responsibility, and clearly, I have done so; therefore, chin up and onward.

The food at Scugnizzo! is superb, with small dishes; even the main event of the pasta was small but perfectly fitting for the appetite and taste. Mine was clam-based, where everyone else had beef in their pasta. I asked for seafood as much as possible while in Japan. But I did break my rule when I had raman on Yamate Dori, which is famous for having the greasiest garlic soup. Eating a bowl of this invention, I know I lessened my life by a few hours. The taste and weight of this dish stayed with me for hours afterward. But on the other hand, it was tasty.

After Scugnizzo!, we went to Karaoke for the next three hours. Being in a room with excitable people singing Showa-era songs can be a blessing or a nightmare. It depends on one’s mood, but I’m always happy to see people being really happy, including my wife, Lun*na Menoh. When she is singing, either on stage or in a room full of friends, she gives a performance that is intense, funny, and genius-like. I have been married to her for thirty-five years, and I’m still trying to figure her out. I never met such a unique and special person like Lun*na before. In truth, if not for her, there would not have been TamTam Books (my press) or my travels to Japan. Her influence on me is as deep as the Catacombs of Paris and as wide as the Pacific Ocean. My Boris Vian obsession was started because she commented that my short stories reminded her of Vian’s work, which is widely translated into Japanese. So, I am in a disco ball-lighted room with a giant screen and Lun*na on the floor, table, and seats singing her heart out. And for me, the anxiety is placed in my back pocket for the next few hours.