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:

Last week, my windscreen world was turned upside down by an email.

Luckily it was only a scare lasting for some, 15 minutes and I spared my 18 month-old son’s blushes by not sending him to nursery with a nappy over his head. The trouble is, I’ve subscribed to a few million newsletters (some are very educational, like the one that keeps turning up to tell me that my pen is too small).  In the space of a week, my inbox was taking in as many emails as a Downing Street petition, all carrying one common denominator – I could ignore them no more and had to investigate further.  It turns out, car designer Daniel Garcia has put together a few images on his computer and created a concept which threatens to take down the Glassman Empire. Me thinks a visit to Universidad Politécnica de Valencia is needed – pronto – to make sure he doesn’t venture too far into the future from the year 2010.

To prevent any embarrassment (after all senor Garcia may even get to read this before I get to him) credit is due, for he has taken an able-bodied Audi and squashed it. I can just see him looking at the saloon version through squinted eyes, as if the guy who delivered it to his studio stopped the bleedin’ thing on his toes as he parked it. But the talented Garcia has taken his design and thrust it onto a carousel and the sports coupe rides with the BMW Gran Coupe, the very stern-faced Mercedes-Benz F800 as it stares down the on-looking Lamborghini Estoque and Porsche Panamera.  As I read through the  list of features, I started to warm to Mr Garcia in the same way that he, himself was inspired by compatriot and  award-winning architect,Santiago Calatrava. Of course, motorhomes excluded, buildings don’t have a need for wheels (especially ones with electric motors in them) but  Calatrava’s own building designs, in particular La Ciudad de las Artes y de las Ciencias (The City of Arts and Sciences) are clear influences in the inception of Garcia’s idea. How about the chameleon-like skin, which can electronically change colour at the touch of a button ? (Mind you, nobody yet knows how this can or will be achieved, so the idea is about as feasible as switches that can read your mind and not only make the necessary colour change, but also know when to do it) . His vision would make any mother proud but mama Glassman has a bone to pick with our amigo in Valencia: self-repairing glass?!

Looky here, Daniel-son, I’m happy and truly inspired that you’re putting your university degree to good use, but a windscreen that can repair itself? What about Brummie bloke Gavin? What will become of his broken heart when he realises that the days of ‘that tiny little chip turning into a great big crack costing an expensive insurance excess’ are numbered? I can’t begin to imagine how the idea of a car that can fix itself would be perceived on Dragons’ Den. The first thing Theo Paphitis will say is, “You can’t even bloody see out of it; I’m out!” Do us all a favour, amigo and suggest a different invention, like a device that will stick pins in that Popodopulous Paphitis’ eyeballs for him (he’s been using that line for two series now and it’s about time someone called his bluff).  Or how about a head band which electronically tightens and retracts, pulling Deborah Meaden’s eyebrows up, every time the camera switches to her face? That would be ace and a grand muchas gracias if you can fix that one for me, por favor!

For now, I will rest in comfort and breathe with relative ease in the knowledge that the far-out and imaginative one-piece windscreen and glass roof is based on a nano-technology material that has not yet been invented. But let this be a warning to anyone thinking of pushing the idea forward, if you get as far as proto-typing anything remotely close to a self repairing windscreen, Glassman will find your address and ask you questions.