Some more fallout from your unhumble Car Czar's recent purchase of an Audi A3 arrived in the mail the other day. On this occasion instead of a new insurance adjustment came a hefty square box: just the size to hold some cool little Audi branding geegaw.
A key ring made of four rings? Quattro drink coasters? Ergonomically imperfect brass knuckles?
The box was opened, and inside was a fancier box bearing the hallowed silver rings. Inside the fancy box was a fancy book. It had pictures and words in it, and yours truly's name was printed on the dust jacket in the "hey, look ... that's my name on there" way of novelty T-shirts from the 70s.
Would this precious little book proffer a brand-building history recap of Germany's Bauhaus automotive design house? Maybe explore the days-gone-by racing cred of those supercharged Silver Arrows from the 30s Grand Prix campaigns?
Not so much.
Instead, Page One provides an answer key to the question no one asked.
The bearer of the fancy book celebrating the fancy automotive marque is instructed on the correct pronunciation of the word "Audi" (see here, good man: it rhymes with "cloudy") ... and is given the mandate to spread the word to the rubes in his or her social-climbing circle who might insist on "confidently" mispronouncing the name.
Oh, the silly plebs! It's too late to save them from saying "Porsh," as it is. They still can't figure out why Kirsten ("Actually, it's pronounced 'Keersten'") at the Sigma Chi ("Actually, it's pronounced 'Sigma Ki'") party just rolled her eyes at them and left with Thom ("Actually, it's pronounced 'Thad.' The 'o' and 'm' are silent and replaced by 'a' and 'd' as often seen in Shakespeare's original manuscripts ...").
On subsequent pages there are more assurances that the purchaser of this fine automobile belongs to a select and "in-the-know" crowd. But in case the new Audi pilot really is just another not-in-the-know Toyota Type who has stretched for the most easily reached silver rings on a lease special, more Seussian snoot awaits.
Did the new "Aoudy" initiate know that the marque produces no fewer than five shades of black? (Because there's nothing worse than showing up to dinner in the wrong shade of black ... say, black with subtle metallic hints of coffee ... because it's dinner, you sot. Don't you feel silly now, parked next to the black A5 rocking metallic flecks of after-dinner absinthe?).
Did the new Aoudy initiate know that the pre-painted body of A8s are polished with ostrich feathers? That the hides on RS models are oiled-in by Scarlett Johannson's bare bottom in a special room kept at 90-degrees Fahrenheit? (I'll bet you wish I hadn't made that last one up).
All of which begs these questions:
Do the pretentious twits we come across in everyday life come about their smug overconfidence via nature or nurture? Did their uppity parents pass it down or teach it, or is there simply a handbook out there for assholes-in-training?
Well, there is a handbook of sorts, and it is apparently sent out to new U.S. owners of Audi's latest small sedan. But the existence of this ode-to-being-better-than-ye pretty much contradicts the idea that "Audi" rhymes with "Cloudy."
"Otty" is the rhyme that comes to mind, along with the imagery of a four-year-old whose nose won't stop running.
While we're on the subject of this new Audi, at eight-weeks-in your unhumble Car Czar reports -0- problems and miles of imperturbable mach schnell!
One's sense of well-being spikes merely upon entering the simple but finely-finished cabin of this new A3. This little sedan is so well put together and so at-home on any pavement at any speed ... all the while returning 28 mpg mixed ... that certainly no one needs a pompous PR primer to feel special about it.
