Coromo In New York, parts 1695 - 1698

1695. He has only one overwhelming desire, and that is to own a car, and drive it around in the Forbidden City. Yes, the desire to own a car is the most elemental and primitive of desires, embedded in out genetic structure; finding its outlet in the unsatisfactory substitute of the riding of horses for millions of years.

1696. Car possession is more basic than the need for food and clothing, and is more essential that sex and pro-creation to the species, ask any teenager abut this. So Coromo was just behaving in a natural way.

1697. “But,” you say, “If he has to have a car, wouldn’t it be more appropriate for him, as an artist, to look for something like a Simca, or a 2CV, or even an old French Renault, rather that a later model Ford Thunderbird, after the design of that car had completely gone to seed, after the original concept of a two seater sports-car had given way to a monstrosity for an entire family still vainly hoping to appeal to the head of the family’s desire to be single and living in his fraternity house in his old college.”

1698. It was a car the design of which was a disgrace to the original concept of the car. Yes, even in car design there are those like myself who love the origin of an idea, like the 1955 Thunderbird, and have no use for the 1983 model in which the first ideas can no longer be found. It is just another example of liking Picasso’s Blue period, or of preferring the Aegina marbles to the Elgin marbles.

Richard Britell