First there was a Kamikaze pheasant which dithered by the roadside before hopping into a field. It then doubled back and made the fatal decision to dash from the safety of the verge, whereupon the Jag ended its life, but took the offside headlamp with it.

Then a touch merchant’s parking in a multi story left a mark on the nearside bumper which is now cracked showing white plastic and looking a bit sorry for itself.

That all happened in a couple of hours and transformed an immaculate car into one that isn’t. The fact that I hadn’t cleaned it in the last eight months is utterly irrelevant.

The interesting fact is that dirty, damaged cars are not usually that cool, whereas beaten up electric guitars, are.

Now I love guitars in the same unhinged, slightly neurotic and mad way that I covet most cars and you may be shocked to learn that it is possible to buy brand new axes (Guitar dude speak for guitars) that have been seriously aged.