Shall I Compare Thee To A......

......Vauxhall Zafira.

I had the misfortune, yesterday, to drive to Hull in a Chevrolet Kalos. Several months ago, I wrote about a similar trip in a Vauxhall Zafira, so I thought I dust off an old idea to highlight why it's such a stinker of a car.

• The extended blind spot, which saw me lurching back into the middle lane more than once to avoid the car that had just materialised in the outside lane.

• The pointless hi-fi controls on the steering wheel; volume and station search are surely the ones that are required.

• The vague gear change.

• The windscreen wiper stalk that feels like it's going to break every time you touch it.

• The radio's inadequate search strength, it couldn't pick up Radio Merseyside three miles from the Liver Building.

• The awkward way the key has to be wrenched out of the lock after switching off.

• The windows that don't clear of condensation when you wind them down and back up.

• The petrol gauge that convinces you that you have plenty in the tank, then freefalls towards empty, then stays tantalisingly above the red line for the next forty miles.

• In contrast to the Zafira, the dog hated the hatchback part for its lack of space and poor visibility.

• Catherine wondered if it was made by Alba!

By some miracle, I was able to pick Radio Lancashire up early on in the journey, just as they were starting to play Goodbye To Love by The Carpenters. The song is pleasant enough but not the sort of thing that would usually register above the norm; it has some nice woodwind (oboe?!) and Karen Carpenter's voice but it's the guitar solo at the end that people remember.

It's not flashy like so many others, where the guitarist is just showing off his technique, but it absolutely soars. Played by an obscure session player, no better a judge than Terry Wogan reckons it's the best guitar solo in the whole pantheon of modern music. There's another solo in the middle of the song but it pales by comparison.

The great moment was nigh; I think I turned the volume up to get its full effect. The song proper drew to a close, a couple of drumbeats as introduction, some breathy vocals filled out the background and the guitar started. Just as it started to fly, the inevitable happened. I think I knew it would; I hoped against hope but to no avail. DJs are genetically incapable of letting a song finish, especially once the singing has stopped.

What came next was pure Alan Partridge. As it faded out, we were treated to some facts about the song, clearly Googled while the singing was still going on. He started with 'That's one of those great guitar solos that people still talk about'! He followed up with supporting information about power ballads, Karen Carpenter's heart attack and the song being based on a Bing Crosby film. On balance, I wish he hadn't.

Anyway, I've just done some research of my own. Hats off to Tony Peluso!