1699. No, Coromo wanted the Thunderbird simple because it was the only thing available at the time. But we are getting way off the topic which is a gallery in New York City selling Coromo paintings for seven thousand dollars.
1700. But how much is seven thousand dollars to a man living in New York City, a man perhaps whose dream was to have a small gallery in the Village and to sell obscure but intriguing works of art to a discriminating clientele of close friends. A man with ample funds of his own, but with a desire to pay for his expenses out of his income, rather than by selling the stock his grandfather had left him, yet again.
1702. Fifty-Seventh Street was out of the question because he couldn’t afford the time or the parking everyday, let alone the rent, and besides he didn’t know anyone to help him maneuver the difficult real estate market up there. That left him to choose between up-town or the village. But he had loved the village since his college days. Everyone said, “But there are no real galleries down there.” “That is just the point,” he would reply, “I want to be in a small spot where there are no other galleries and selling things no one else is selling.”