Stupid Dashboard Lights

A Simple Request from a Frustrated Driver (Messed-Up But Managing #21)

There’s almost nothing in life more terrifying than a dashboard light. And it’s not really because of what it means. It’s the opposite: no one really knows what it means. You’re just driving along, singing, “Hey now, you’re an all-star, get your game on…” when suddenly that little orange icon pops up. Maybe it’s a warning that your tire pressure is low or, what my mind goes to: my engine is about to self-destruct. No way to know. Should I keep driving and singing because, in this moment, “all that glitters” isn’t gold, or should I pull over?

I have a lot of complaints about dashboard lights. Here’s one: the icons are always tiny. They look like toddler-sized hieroglyphics or confusing emojis. On my wife’s dashboard, one looks like a snowflake riding a unicorn and, in my car, one resembles a circle with wings. The worst is when your wife calls you, telling you a light came on, then you ask what it looks like and she says, “It’s like a bowl with two squiggly lines.” “Super helpful, babe! So, you’re saying it’s either the transmission or a bowl of spaghetti?”

Another complaint: the ensuing scavenger hunt. It used to be that you had to open the glove box to pull out the manual, which half the time had managed to vanish, and 100% of the time is thicker than the Bible and written in six languages you don’t speak. Flip to page 463. “Warning light may indicate battery issue. Or not. Please see page 478 for more details.” You flip to 473 and see this 警告灯可能表示电池存在问题, this Advarselslampen kan indikere et problem med batteriet., and this எச்சரிக்கை விளக்கு பேட்டரி சிக்கலைக் குறிக்கலாம்.

The only English you see is “Consult a professional.” You’re like, okay, great. Thank you for nothing, Honda. My wife’s bowl of spaghetti comment was more helpful than that. So, what’s the next step? Google it. That, of course, only sends you into full-blown panic mode. You click the link to Reddit where some lady says, right after that light came on in her car yesterday, it exploded resulting in a car fire on the interstate. Below that you see a video thumbnail of what looks like a mechanic.

So, you click the link. Turns out, it’s some random YouTube guy in a tank top saying you need a new carburetor. You don’t even know what a carburetor does. And you don’t even know if your car has one. But you still feel like you might need to order one and, if you click the Affiliate link in the YouTube description, he will get a kickback. So, you do. Just in case.

In the meantime, to try to save some cash, you head over to AutoZone. The employee plugs in a scanner and, you’re thinking, “Okay, this is cool. Somebody actually helping me and not even charging.” Until he makes that one face, you know, the one people make when a magician asks them to pick a card. They nod slowly and play along. So do you. Then he says, “Yep! That’s what I though. Might be a sensor.” Awesome. Love that. “Might be…?” Well, it might be a demon, too. Right?! It might be my Bluetooth getting an attitude. It might be the car trying to get my attention because it has abandonment issues.

That’s not the worst of it or the end of it. Next, they tell you, “We can reset it, but it might come back.” “Might come back?!” Yeah right! It always comes back. Dashboard lights are like exes. You never know what they want, they show up uninvited, and the moment you think it’s finally over, they reappear with some new problem. Just say it! You know it’s coming back, dude.

Now, if AutoZone can’t fix it, you’re headed to the dealership because, of course, you don’t want the little shop down the street to rob you blind. Well, the dealership will, too, but at least it feels more official. Either way, you’re spending dollars. Lots of them. You pull up and someone in a golf shirt greets you like you’ve just inherited a yacht.

“Hi there. Pull forward. Give me your keys. We’ll get to it as soon as we can.”

“Sir, do you know how long it’ll be?”

“You’ve got 7 people in front of you, so, maybe 8 or 9 hours.”

All this over a stupid light! 6 Dr. Peppers later, they come back and say, “Mr. Halcomb. Come on up. We’ve got your car ready. Alright, let’s see…what do we have here? Ah, it looks like it was a loose gas cap.” You want to cry but, in the moment, you forgot how. There goes $237 for not tightening your gas cap well enough. You go back and look at the gas cap and, sure enough, right there on the stupid thing, it literally tells you, if you don’t tighten the cap appropriately, the light will come on.

Y’all, I’m a simple guy. If you know me, you know that. I’m not high maintenance at all. I don’t ask for much in this life. I like simple things. So, I have a simple request: if you design cars, please fix our dashboard crisis. Like, how about dashboard lights that are words instead of indecipherable images? That’s all. I want to turn on my car and see a screen that says, “Fill Tire” or “Gas Cap” or “Ignore.” Technologically speaking, we’re there. That can’t be that difficult.

As it stands, we’re stuck decoding cryptic symbols like we’re Nicolas Cage in a National Treasure movie. I don’t need a warning triangle with an exclamation point. Ever. Like, at all. What I need is a voice to come through the speakers and say, “Hey Michael, calm down and, when you do, fill your washer fluid.” That’s what I need. So, Honda, Jeep, Ford, Chevy…could you please design some calm, clear, emotional support diagnostics? And could you have them tell us whether it’s okay to keep driving or not, too?

I don’t want to have to sit in the driveway, engine running, lights blinking, scrolling YouTube while my daughter calls from the road saying, “Dad, there’s a symbol on the dash. It’s like a toaster with antennas.” A toaster?! With antennas?! Lord, help me. I’m 44. I’ve been married 23 years. I have three kids. And somehow, I still can’t tell if a dashboard light means we’re out of gas or the car needs an exorcism. I just want easy answers. And maybe a car that speaks English. I paid a lot for this thing. Is that too much to ask?