A light keeps coming on the dashboard

I have decided it's code for "Attagirl, Susan!"

This is a harp, and the angels are playing

I tend to drive iffy cars — not because I want to, but because that has been my lot in life. I bought my most recent one after the other one needed a transmission and frankly, I didn’t love that car enough to buy it one. Hence, a different car, a mid-range one that didn’t break the bank, and still carts me from place to place.

Though the car is not an expensive model, it is engineered to be driven by someone who doesn’t pay attention. Lights flash on for everything from fog to potentially icy roads. There’s one light with the word “eyesight” and a line drawn through it, which means I am on my own and must rely on my own vision to navigate the road. That is good to know, because then I can put down the book I was reading and concentrate on driving.

I’m kidding. This isn’t a driverless car, but it is a witless one.

Over the years, I have become intimately familiar with dashboard lights. One flashed on an early Corolla so much I reached up under the dashboard and unscrewed the little lightbulb. Problem solved (until I essentially melted the engine for lack of oil). I know the above little harp means the tire pressure is off but what if it mean something pretty? Like the angels are watching over me?

What if your car was not trying to scare, but encourage? I spend an inordinate amount of time behind the wheel, and I am offering a reinterpretation of these warnings. If reality is perception, here is my new reality:

Oooh! A diamond ring!

There’s a genie inside and he’s sweaty

You’re on fire, girl! Now enjoy some sax music.

Winkin’ at you, cutie.

The world can be so anxious-making. Let’s create a little peace for ourselves shall we?