When you buy from a local business, you are not lining the pockets of some nameless investment fund and you are not contributing towards some Fat Cat’s ‘phat’ bonus.
But you are putting food on the table for a family; you are helping pay for the household bills; you are helping to build your local economy.
The economic recovery starts with buying from local and small businesses.
Whatever the reason might be, I – 41 (and a half) year-old Homo sapiens, love toys.
Perhaps there’s some kind of retrospective replacement retail therapy going on, something which I cannot fix with a pair of pliers and a screwdriver, or maybe I’m just happy that my son and I can share a morning spent clicking lengths of Scalextric track together (around his younger brother, under the coffee table around the chair leg and over the train track of course).
As I sit in the kaleidoscope of light beaming through our south-facing window, Fireman Sam lies motionless, awaiting his own rescue after taking a high velocity hit from an airborne Finn McMissile. Percy must be bracing himself: he’s next into the Tokyo Spinout Super Cascade Crossover Trackset (and we’ve prepared him a launch Mr Lightyear himself would be proud of). The imagination can go just as beyond Buzz’s ultimate destiny. So much fun to be had, but you don’t always need toys to be this creative.
Let me paraphrase: sometimes you have to be creative because you can’t get the blinking toy out of the dastardly display case. Please note, I did not say ‘box’. Boxes are what toys used to come in. It was our pre-digital plug and play; our very own ‘rip-and-go’. Here I am now, reliving my past – sharing my son’s present – sharing his presents. But I’m struggling to prise a plastic object away from the very thing that attracted me to it – correction: my son to it.
Make no mistake, I can take the front of a Porsche 997 apart, rip out its windscreen and successfully put the car back together again with a shiny, brand new glass shield in place. Oh, I’m skilled. My Meccano spanner has been replaced with a full set of Chrome Vanadium wrenches. I’m a journeyman technician and my skills began by building blocks, looking up Lego; my ability to construct, deconstruct and reconstruct was ameliorated by assembling Airfix aeroplanes from complex kits of moulded plastic. I’m quite hands-on. I don’t need instructions (well, definitely not to start with). I’m a man’s man. But since when did we need tools to remove toys from cartons?
With my mechanical brain and entrepreneurial mindset, I’m currently working on the design of a tool that:
a) Can deftly remove the subject toy from its display case within a tenth of the time it is currently taking;
b) Can safely remove the subject toy from its display case within a tenth of the time it is currently taking without showing my child how not to use a pair of kitchen scissors.
c) Can carefully remove the subject toy from its display case within a tenth of the time it is currently taking without showing my child how not to use a pair of kitchen scissors without damaging the toy, the kitchen scissors, me or my excited and impatient child.
This was expected to be a routine windscreen replacement.
Many technicians work like machines: yank the old one out and throw the new one in. But while this troop of technicians travels on to the beat of its own drummer, some of the wagons they leave behind whistle and howl in the wind.
“As long as it doesn’t leak, that’s all that matters, right?” This is the most common phrase heard from many installers as well as car owners. Wrong. Of course, it’s important that the rain stays outside the car (and that your four wheels doesn’t end up looking like they’re supporting the most unusual, yet original aquarium everytime you wheel out the pressure washer on a bright Sunday afternoon). But there are other, more worryingly serious problems which would make water ingress look like a great new extra amongst the car’s features.
Imagine the noise from a car with no windows. You wouldn’t hear yourself think and passing any sewage treatment works, or freshly manured fields would be a trauma that you’d need professional help to recover from. But what if your newly fitted windscreen wasn’t stuck; what if it wasn’t secure? How would you know? When would you know? And at what cost? In terms of an airbarg being effective (if deployed after a collision) the windscreen would need to be properly bonded to the car. There is also some well advetrised and documented evidence of how much a of the car’s structural strength and rigidity is provided by a correctly installed windscreen.
Take one windscreen and a car to stick it into. Prepare both contact surfaces (with the appropriate materials) and apply a neat and straight bead of Polyurthane adhesive either to the car or directly to the glass – without any gaps. Lift windscreen into position and set in place. If you were trained and qaulified to do this and had been repeating this process between four and six times a day for the previous five years, you should be quite good at it, surely?
I know who did this, moreover, which company the ‘fitter’ works for; if I mentioned that company’s name, most people would know too. But this isn’t about revealing that company’s identity; it’s about the poor workmanship by one of their fitters (besides, if I mention that company’s name, you wouldn’t finish reading this blogpost before my head is removed from my shoulders and deftly handed to me by a team of lawyers – neck still attached). But it’s OK Your Majesty, despite the evidence exhibited before you, I will not mention that company’s name because I would get into more trouble for doing so than their fitter would for thinking that compromising safety with such shoddy workmanship is acceptable.
Woah! Easy boy! A radius curve – you know, like round and around the corner? For avoidance of doubt, follow the existing line (oh, but you’ve obliterated it with all that black primer!). You’re forgiven; you don’t know what a curve is – it’s fine – please continue in a straight line up the sides and then across the top of the pinch-weld recess.
This isn’t working is it? May I remind you that this is a £45,000 car? A car which belongs to Mr Customer who bought it for 45 hard-earned-large taken out of his own sky rocket? Albert II, a Rhesus Monkey, became the first primate sent into space on board a V2 rocket, I think he could have done a better job than this (whilst hanging from a tree and eating a banana with the other hand).
Put the prestige and value of this car aside for one moment. This is a task being carried out by an ‘insurance approved’ trained professional. The definition of repetition suggests that this should be better than what we see in these images. Yet, this unacceptable standard and professional incompetence is what insured parties’ insurance companies are blindly endorsing when they steer them towards their preferred repairer. Approved? I disapprove.
Meanwhile, Mr Customer is keenly awaiting his car to be returned to him in a finished state. He’s eager to get his jalopy loaded for a weekend trip to France (and the only wind he’ll now hear is what you get from eating Brussell Sprouts).
Adhesive applied:
…and “thrown” into the car:
But this windscreen is not rare, it’s obsolete! The glass and the tooling which helps shape it, were both fabricated from scratch to complete this restoration project and finally get the car back on the road.
Only three Adams Probe 16s were ever made; two are in Canada awaiting restoration and the third – the one used in cult movie Clockwork Orange – was bought by Bedfordshire-based car enthusiast and former organiser of the Marcos Owners club Colin Feyeraband.
“In its day, it was more expensive than an E-type” he said. “Even when I bought it as a restoration project in the late 80s it cost around £10,000!”
The first restorer returned the Probe to Colin as a body shell along with 12 boxes full of bits. In 2004 the car was also featured as a Top Gear ‘restoration rip-off’. Colin finally took it to another restorer who then completed the job however, the windscreen was damaged during the process.
The super-fast stolen sports car in which ‘Alex’ (Malcolm McDowell) and his gang of Droogs roared around the countryside, terrorising locals was quietly trailered into Pilkington AGR’s specialist factory which has been making classic windscreens for the aftermarket since the late 1950s, and still retains the vast majority of the tooling produced ’’in-house’’.
“It’s an extraordinary car,” said General Manager Peter Swann, “and the spooky thing is that the original windscreen was made at this site!”.
“We can’t find the old tooling so we’ve had top start from scratch and that’s been quite a challenge. the screen that was in didn’t fit properly so we’ve had to make adjustments and the shape as a whole is unusual – almost as it’s upside down”.
Probe Interior
Goodwood Festival of Speed (30th June – 3rd July 2011) will be where the car makes its first public appearance. “After that it would be nice to take it other motoring festivals and special events,” said proud owner Colin.
Nissan GT-R Windscreen Removal.
The windscreen on this beast of a car had to be removed as part of a list of corrections and alterations the owner wanted to make. After removing all the ancillary parts, marks were made where the glass lug and locater positions are:
Thin strips of tape serve as clear indicators to where these bits of moulded plastic are hidden, behind the glass; this helps guide and steer the cutting (razor) wire around them without getting caught up in or around them and ending up damaging the glass and or the car! Here’s what those locaters look like:
(right)
(center)
(left)
No power tools or machinery was used to remove this windscreen; using a graded ‘razor’ wire (American branded) the polyurethane was cut by hand. Here you can see the wire behind the (extruded) trim and under the glass:
This car’s windscreen also houses a rain sensor for the automatic wipers; this must be dismounted and the harness protected from damage:
Sensor dismounted from windscreen
A closer look at the bracket / mount
The windscreen removed:
Finally, a quick swing of the camera around the glass and car to show there was no damage to neither the car nor the glass:
Nissan GT-R Windscreen Removed
(You Tube)
Like with most things in life, we can’t resist the urge to shop around for a bargain. We all have our own standards to uphold and the difference in quality is usually as clear as the old adage, ‘you get what you pay for’.
If your insurance doesn’t cover you for windscreen (or glass) breakages, you’ll be looking to get the problem solved as soon as possible, as cheap as possible and hopefully, having the work completed to an acceptable standard.
The cheapest prices are not always the best option.
A decent, reputable windscreen installer will be competitive on price, but he will not give it away. There is a clear line between:
a) completing the work using quality materials and supporting the installation with a robust guarantee and,
b) stripping the price down to a ridiculously cheap quote in the hope to capture the job.
Cutting prices usually means cutting corners.
Some simply will not and do not care about how their windscreen is fitted, ‘as long as it doesn’t leak, or fall out’ seems to be the general consensus with those people. But when it does go wrong (and trust me, it will!) Mr Cheap Installer has long gone with the very little that he yielded from that job. But take it a step further, let’s say you sell the vehicle (and thus don’t really care about the quality or the guarantee) but imagine the grief a leaking windscreen (or rusting aperture, loose trims, wind noise, creaking trims etc) will cause the new owner of the vehicle when he or she tries to get the problem addressed.
Windscreen replacement is straight forward when done correctly.
There are many things to look out for when having a windscreen replaced; but your starting point should be to ascertain who it is that is providing the service – have they been around for a while? Do they offer a guarantee (and I’m not talking about six months or a year – will they go as far as three years, or for as long as you own the vehicle?). Are they registered with ATA (Automotive Technician Accreditation)? If so, ask to see the technician’s ID card; if he is NVQ qualified, ask if this can be verified (’cause after all, anyone can say yes!). Check out the state of the van that pulls up near your car – or if you take it to a workshop, ask to have a peep – if it’s messy and dirty, this may reflect in the overall quality of workmanship.
Good automotive technicians take pride in their appearance and their work.
Ask what polyurethane (adhesive) they use and don’t be afraid to ask what brand of glass they propose to use. When it comes to safe drive times, the installer should make clear how long the job is expected to take and and at what time the car can be driven to keep in line with the adhesive manufacturer’s guildelines. Check and note the condition (as well as type) of trims, or mouldings around your screen before any work is carried out – ask the installer if new trims will be used, and if so, ask for reassurance that these will be standard, ie, purpose made for that particular car. If you’re not sure, about any aspect of the work, take a picture and email it to me via the contact me page.
We’re here to help.
“Can I pinch one of your fags?” We wouldn’t have minded if she was fit, or even close to being fit. But like throwing a bone to keep a potentially dangerous dog from getting too close to us, Mark nodded and let her help herself to one of his tailor-made. We waited for her to make for one of the exits before we dived back into our SA Gold ales, but she didn’t leave. She just stood there, and we didn’t want to be seen with her. “My best friend died today” she said, “she was 33 – can you believe it?” As it happens, we could, but it was neither the time nor the place to be telling her. “They found her in the shower”. Just how she died, or how she came to be in the shower is something we didn’t hang around to find out, not after the day we’d just had (although admittedly, neither of us had just had our best friend die in the shower that evening to be fair). How apt and ironic that the pub should be named, The Retreat.
If hard cheese was sold in supermarkets, I’d be having the ‘Buy One Get One Free’ deal; the buy one -organised trip to the fabulous Millennium Stadium to watch sheep shearers battle against sheep shaggers, boys’ weekend away and have a picnic on the way – get a disaster free deal.
Picnics are great and I love a varied spread from a hamper, preferably on a blanket, in a wide open space, under a hot sun, as the sound of Gypsy Kings echoes from across the lake in Kenwood Park. But a picnic -without the Pimms- on a train with a beer-guzzling barfly from Brisbane is two stops up from Upton Park on the District line. And here’s the piquant twist: a picnic (without the Pimms with an ale-thirsty Aussie) on the wrong bleeding train.
Try buying two tickets -First Class- to Cardiff and subsequently missing that train. These would have been the first class seats upon which the picnic would have been a blast, perhaps whilst flicking over pages of Country Living as one decides whether to pop in a green olive (with garlic) slip in a black olive (on its own) or crunch on a mini bell pepper (stuffed with cream cheese). If only I had looked at the Paddington to Cardiff tickets to see how much bar time we could afford before departure. Frankly speaking I’d rather choke on a cracker, but that would never have happened as we also had Brie to spread over them – oh how the other passengers in coach D loved it when we ripped open that packet of pungent President.
After strolling into Paddington thinking we’ve got a leisurely hour to bury a tasty beverage before embarking on a four hour journey to watch the All Blacks whoop some Welsh backside, only to realise that the 1315 departure time was the return ticket from Cardiff Central. It was time to panic. But only for another 10 minutes or so (and an additional 70 English Pounds). Sheila said there’s another train in 15 minutes which she can get us on so we can get back to being on on our merry way without too much ado. Bang went the comfy seat in first class though, but at least we were still on time to see the Haka (from two near-the-front seats on the halfway line, right?). We had just averted a disaster and we were back on course. Or at least, so it seemed. The muffled voice of our train driver announced, ‘This train terminates at Swansea’ (funny how they can switch accents immediately after Bristol Parkway. Cardiff was the penultimate stop; we’d bought ourselves a few tinnies and our station was three hours away. Enough said.
As we approached the city of Cardiff, the people in our carriage resurrected themselves from their lazy slumber to reach for their coats, hats and scarves. We followed suit too, and to make sure I had the game tickets in my hand as we head for the stadium, I rested them in the seat pocket in front of me, neatly in an envelope. Gotta get myself together – we’ve got valuable time to make up! Coat on, hat on and rucksack down from the compartment. The train stopped and there was a cheer of excitement as everybody deftly made for the exit doors. This was going to be the first time I would be seeing the mighty All Blacks play, and to witness the Haka so close -almost within touching distance- was making me do my own version of the Maori war dance (only without the aggression). Getting out of the station took seconds and we had about 15 minutes to get ourselves into the stadium -preferably seated with a beer- before the national anthems started. Time to check which gate we should be looking for…
It was at that precise moment, my heart started to make its way up towards my mouth. Just as it passed where my tonsils used to be, it did a sharp U-turn to head towards my backside.
“You haven’t have you?” Mark didn’t need to ask me the most rhetorical question, ever.
Two near-the-front seats, on the halfway line… to see the All Blacks; the Haka, never mind the 70 quid each. I’d left the pair of them on the train. The train that was now well on it’s way to Swansea. I weighed up the chances of getting to Swansea in a cab, meeting the train, grabbing the tickets and making it back in time for kick-off. But unless the cab was a DeLorean DMC-12 driven by Marty ‘Nigel Mansell’ McFly, there was no way I’d even get past the cab stand in time. By now, Mark was blue in the face. Partly from the cold, but mainly from not breathing enough as he laughed himself to near death (I’m just thankful there were no showers close-by). With ten minutes ’til kickoff, we needed to think and act fast: “Ticket office – where’s the ticket office?” A mounted policeman pointed out where we would learn of our fate, “Sorry mate, we can’t re-issue those tickets. You’ll have to buy two new ones if you want to get in”.
If I had time to spare, I would have taken the taffy ticket tosser to task over his profiteering ways. Onwards and upwards into the concrete bowl to witness the Haka. So much for the ringside seats: we ended up behind one of the goals as the New Zealanders huddled together.. with their backs to us. It’s a good job there were screens in the stadium.
Next time, I’m watching it on the telly.
When you’re looking at your shiny new windscreen, you are looking at the finished article and while you may be satisfied that your broken glass has been replaced, you may be surprised to learn that it may also be concealing a multitude of sins which could creep up and haunt you in the not too distant future:
This is a 10 year-old car. What you’re seeing is excessive corrosion which is creeping out from underneath the heated rear windscreen. “They don’t make ‘em like they used to” I hear you say. But this has nothing to do with the manufacturer of the car. This Peugeot 206 had its rear window replaced two years prior to these images being taken. The old (broken) glass was removed by a very careless ‘technician’ who used a utility knife (similar to a Stanley) to cut away the polyurethane which holds the glass in place. In doing so, the paint surface had been scratched so deeply, the knife tip had scored right through to the metalwork. He left it untreated and thus exposed to the elements:
If you can see past the cosmetic issue, the stale smell of stagnant water held in the interior carpets is not so easy to ignore. There is also the issue of the glass becoming unstuck which is how all the water is getting into the car.
I recently had a look at a track-prepared BMW E36 to try and find out why the front windscreen had cracked. There was no impact mark to suggest a stone had caused it. This crack occurred when the pinchweld had corroded and swollen and thus, pushed its way against the bonded windscreen. All this could have been avoided if the previous installer was careful with his cutting tools and conscious of what he was doing.
The extra repair work added unnecessary time to the replacement as well as an unwanted cost for the car owner. In this instance, the affected areas were stripped of all corrosion and prepared in readiness for the windscreen bonded process stage.
One of the worst cases I’ve seen was this 2004 Mercedes-Benz Sprinter van windscreen. The screen had stress cracked as the rust expanded, taking on more and more water until this happened:
The windscreen was removed and what we found was truly shocking; remember: this is a bonded windscreen whereby the two contact surfaces (glass and body) must be nothing short of clean and fit for purpose:
Motorists looking for what they regard as a ‘high-quality’ windscreen replacement should understand there are differences between the various types of automotive glass available to them. I often hear how original equipment manufacturer (OEM) glass, or dealer part glass is superior to aftermarket glass. This is a common misconception however, as much as there are some differences between OEM and aftermarket glass, you may be surprised to learn just how similar some examples are.
There is no mistaking, if you purchase a replacement from a manufacturer-authorised ‘main’ dealer, you will get the same brand as your original windscreen i.e., the glass will bear the vehicle manufacturer logo, such as Audi, BMW, Mercedes-Benz, Porsche and Volkswagen. But if you order your glass from a windscreen replacement company, your glass will most likely come from a reliable distributor who will stock OEM certified glass, such as Guardian, Pilkington and Sekurit Saint Gobain. This glass will have been manufactured to the same, if not exact specifications. The windscreens are the same shape, size, thickness, durability and color as original specifications and in many cases, the vehicle manufacturer logo has been removed or covered over by the glass manufacturer’s logo. Automotive glass – especially windscreens – must meet stringent safety standards; to this effect, they are identical to the dealer versions.
Many of the recognised glass manufacturers have relocated their factories to countries in Asia, China being the most common country. But China is also home to some not so well known (to the average motorist) brands, such as Fuyao and Xinyi. Purchasers of the new Freelander 2 for example may not notice, but the glass of their shiny new Land Rover is manufactured by a company known for its proliferation in the aftermarket industry: Fuyao. Insisting that your car’s windscreen is replaced with an OEM branded glass may not guarantee that you get an identical windscreen; it is very common for vehicle manufacturers to change glass manufacturer. It’s big business, so as contracts expire and the work may go out to tender. The bidding process is very competitive since these contracts are lucrative. This can result in a different company producing windshields from year to year for the same auto manufacturer. For example, the BMW Mini One may have a ‘Mini’ windscreen manufactured by Pilkington fitted to it at source, however, ordering an OEM branded windscreen via a BMW main dealer parts counter may produce the exact same screen which has been manufactured by Saint Gobain. To twist this conundrum even further, an aftermarket glass manufactured under the same brands will be no different, just minus the vehicle manufacturer’s logo. Now repeat that back to me!
In addition, lesser known aftermarket glass can be a different thickness than its counterparts. But in order to be sold and used, it must have passed compliance tests which in turn will allow each glass unit to bear a safety standard mark
Of course, not all windscreen damage requires a full replacement; any reputable (or ATA registered) automotive glass replacement company can tell you if the stonechips can be repaired, as a matter of fact, it is standard policy to offer repair before replacement (as long as it is legally repairable). If a replacement is needed, vehicle drivers and owners have a variety of specialist windscreen companies available to them. But remember, in most cases, a windscreen is only as good as its installer.
If Phil and I were superheroes, many people wouldn’t take us very seriously. Well, I think my alter ego, Glassman could get a cameo in Batman Regurgitates II and similarly, Transmitter Man would probably get to play the baddie in The IT Crowd or something. Phil may not be a hero to some, but for many petrolheads, his cars are definitely super.
It was a Thursday afternoon when I met Phil back in 2006; he called and asked for a quote to remove and refit the heated rear windscreen on his De Tomaso Longchamp (I have to admit that he may as well have said it was a Fatsomutsa Zapparelli for all I knew at the time, but hey – you live and learn). He wanted a new rubber fitted to the heated rear window so I went along, expecting to see some DIY kit car or something. “Oh! A De Tomaso!” I said (I didn’t say it to pretend, but the car looked familiar – perhaps it was that embellished look which featured so strongly in Carrozzeria Ghia -designed cars) but this comfortable coupe didn’t have much chrome. It had a mass of muscle, a plenitude of panache (and a leaking rear window) all rolled into one shell and plonked onto four voluminous tyres.
We got chatting and Phil suggested that I come along to the Enfield Pageant to see some classic and vintage cars, but I think he was trying hard not look worried about what someone had said about removing windows that are no longer available. Another bit of stupid advice he was given was to ‘cut the rubber’ to remove the glass. After a brief explanation on why rubbers shouldn’t be cut and Fairy Liquid is not such a great idea when putting the window back in, Phil began to relax. “Have you been on Pistonheads?” he asked, furtively “if you haven’t, I think you’ll like it”. He went on to describe the dynamic devotees of this cyber-society and how there isn’t a windscreen specialist imparting his knowledge. “People are always asking stuff about windscreens and automotive glass” he added. Frankly speaking, Phil was winning the talking competition at this stage. To be brutally honest, he’d lapped me several times by now – but in a good way – and it’s not so bad if you’re defeated by the eventual winner and Phil wins every time we speak. He’s one of those guys that knows stuff; he’s the kind of bloke that remembers all that stuff, with dates. I’m sure he won’t mind me saying this (must behave now ’cause I’ll be inviting him later) but he remembers stuff with dates and references, names and all the kind of stuff that lesser people just wouldn’t retain. Inspiring stuff. The man is one of those ‘Let Me Google That For You’ information resources on his chosen subjects. I duly went along to have a nosey at this online community for petrolheads.
Within five minutes of seeing a thread about the daughter of a formerly fat, erstwhile Chancellor of the Exchequer ( he’s shed about two Cheryl Coles of weight since his days as a Tory politician) Glassman came into existence (although thinking back, it was a misleading thread title and I was disappointed that after 47 pages of posts, nobody had put up the recipe for Nigella’s Tasty Buns).
Transmitter Man has since kept in touch and we’ve bumped into each other at a couple of hoons. The De Tomasso stayed at home on both occasions, but I was introduced to another roaring beast, the TVR 420 SEAC. I was more than happy to oblige when Phil called a few weeks later and asked if he could leave the ‘Wedge’ with me while he shot off on business – if only he’d told me that he wouldn’t have minded if I took her for a spin. The thought did cross my mind though, but the noise that thing makes, I feared that he may hear the roar all the way over in Amsterdam. “The screen is knackered,” he said “it has a few little chips on it but the glass surface is so pitted, the slightest bit of sun and I can’t see out!”
So a new windscreen it would be. The full replacement in pictures can be seen here soon.