It’s an obsession and it stays with you all your life. You find yourself pleading with friends to stop their cars in the most inconvenient places to leap out and take snaps of some forlorn looking thing enduring a slow roadside death. You need to record them before they go. The wise and prolific Neil Young reminded us that rust never sleeps.  You can picture this, can’t you? In point of fact they aren’t all terminal cases for it might be a motor in a healthier mode eking out a useful life; or a diamond in the rough – something rare that has escaped the lust of razor blade manufacturers and those makers of throwaway non-essentials soon forgotten. Unlike so much else motor vehicles elicit warmth, love, in the hearts of many and nostalgia for them is enormous. In your mind will be a car, the first you owned, or maybe your Dad’s or one of your mates or that one belonging to a special person from that summer. You know the one. Close your eyes and you can see it. It stays with you. I have mates who can reel off lists of registration numbers of familiar motors going way back. I’m sure you know people who can do this – perhaps you can. Motors do this.