And now? They’re gone. All of them. You’re more likely to see a Model T. It is the same with all cars. They come. They provide a frisson of excitement for the new owner, they get sold to a minicab driver and when they are so full of hen-night sick that their wheels stop going round properly, they are dismantled and turned into toasters. The speed at which this process happens is astonishing. In fact, I’ve just worked out that it takes longer to design and engineer a new car than it does for that car to go from being someone’s pride and joy to being the handle on a Morphy Richards kettle. Just last week I sold my Volvo XC90 because it was getting a bit tired. There was a sense that soon it would start to cost money and that we’d be better off handing that problem onto a minicab driver and getting a shiny new one instead. It was sad to see the old girl go, but hey, within a couple of years, I’ll be drinking some fizzy pop from its rear wing and keeping my vegetables crisp and fresh in what used to be its bonnet.
