MOST people have suffered a heart-stopping moment or two in the course of their lives. At one end of the scale we have the relatively minor mishap such as when bleach is applied to that pricey Persian rug instead of the recommended carpet cleaner. At the other, there was the hapless individual who tripped over his shoelaces and fell headlong into a collection of Ming vases.

Somewhere in the middle of this morass of misery is the bright spark from Worcester City Council who didn't think through the cleaning procedure for the Elgar statue. We can only imagine that the person or persons responsible turned an even whiter shade of pale when the full horror of Sir Edward's lighter complexion became apparent.

Sculptor Kenneth Potts wasn't very happy with his creation's change of mood. While the pale and interesting look may be a prized condition for some, it hardly suited the visage of the man who wrote this country's unofficial national anthem. It was perhaps not so much "land" more like "bland" when it came to matters of hope and glory. Happily, the pomp was pumped back -- and bearing in mind the circumstances, the best was made of a bad job. We therefore trust that Sir Edward is now returned to his former glory and is once again a centre of attraction for skateboarding teenagers and the passing seagulls which appear to find his head so irresistible.

Nevertheless, if someone is having a bad dream tonight -- and we're not talking Gerontius -- then it is only what they richly deserve.