Dispatches From the Front
July 2003
Csere, Csaba
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From: Matras, John
Sent: April 18, 2003 9:38 AM
To: Csere, Csaba
Cc: Swan, Tony
Subject: Bufori Mk III
Csaba,
Heard tell you were at the N.Y. show. Didn't see you, but perhaps that's because you saw me first...
I do know that you missed one of the most bizarre intros ever. Imagine the good taste of a New Jersey McMansion combined with the sophistication of a sixth-grade theater presentation.
It was certainly an appropriate way to introduce the Bufori Mk III La Joya to America.
Maybe you saw these poor creations before they put the car covers over them. They were downstairs, behind the Suzuki stand, making that little sports-car concept look positively handsome, and next to the Monster Garage stand, making their exhibit look conservative.
The Buforis are Aussie “designed”—they're shrunken neoclassics with a Packard hood design—and built in Kuala Lumpur, with 2.7-liter V-6s mounted transversely amidships. Obviously yanked out of some poor front-driver, although an Asian gentleman at the Bufori stand told me it was Bufori CEO Gerry Khouri's own design. (A talented guy, this Mr. Khouri—the chassis, engine, and body design, all his own?)
Anyway, the intro, as noted, was bizarre and long. We were told repeatedly how beautiful the cars were in prose more purple than the worst bruise you've ever had. Everybody who had anything to do with the car had to give the same pathetic speech: So beautiful that once you've seen it, you have to buy it. They even managed to get the president of the New York auto dealers association, which sponsors the N.Y. show, to speak, or at least mumble something about the New York auto show never having seen anything like this before. Durn tootin', Mark.
After they finally pulled the covers off the cars, they announced a Q&A session. Great, I had some questions, because the handful of journalists there (only three of which, including me, I recognized) had been fed a lot of gravy with very little meat.
The questions, however, were asked by the lovely Elizabeth, reading from 3x5 cards, and answered by the same folks who had just been droning on about the Bufori. At least one of the questions provided some excitement. How strong is the Bufori? This strong, said one of the droners, as he jumped up and down on the hood. I think I saw something like that at a Saturn press event.
The talking ended with a quote from Barnum, something about imagination. Funny, the only Barnum quote I know is the one about a sucker being born every minute.
I went inside the wrought iron fence that surrounded the AstroTurfed stand—did I mention the stage-prop classical columns?—for a closer look, being careful not to touch anything. One never knows . . . I grabbed a brochure and fled, having done my journalistic duty.
Still, in retrospect, the only thing this presentation—and its subject—missed was the warning “Don't try this at home, kids.”
Later,
John M.
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