Lisa, take the wheel

Don’t let cars do the driving

Ino longer know how to drive a car built in the last five years. My baby blue 1978 Ford F100 (affectionately named “Blue Belle”) and my white two door 2009 Jeep Wrangler (“Mini Pearl”) are perfect specimens of a vehicle. They do what I ask them to do. Frankly, this is a trait I admire in most things — namely husbands, dogs, cats, computers and politicians, though I’ve all but given up on any of them doing the sensible things I ask.

I still had hope for the automobile, but that hope was dashed (see what I did there?) when I rented a new car on my recent travels.

It braked when I didn’t. It steered when I hadn’t. It turned off altogether when I waited at an intersection. Oh, you are turning ME off too, buddy!

I tried to cancel the automated systems, but each button I pushed did 12 different things, none of which was the thing I wanted. With each push, new information came up on a screen surrounding the steering wheel. And here I thought we weren’t supposed to drive while watching TV.

One button told me the outside temperature, road conditions, fuel efficiency, speed and how many miles I could go before running out of gas — as though the arrowed “E-to-F” system was too difficult to manage. Another button relayed my coolant temperature, oil pressure, tire pressure, blood pressure and heart rate — and I tested the range on that puppy the angrier I became. Then came the radio.

There were 4 buttons to manage 358 satellite stations, phone calls, text messages, audiobooks, maps, bass and treble. And when I put the car in reverse, the screen became a backup camera to show me what I could see if I simply looked behind me like I was berated to do when learning to drive.

The car likely did much more than this, but there are no words anywhere — only hieroglyphic circles, triangles and such. Because that makes everything easier.

Here’s the thing — I do not want a car to drive for me. I can drive. I even have a license to do it. I had to go to the revenue office and stand in line for four days to get it renewed. Did the car do that? I didn’t see it there. Maybe it was in a cloaking mode. Probably one of the buttons I couldn’t figure out.

But to show I am still hip (in ways other than the “replacement” kind), I bought Mini Pearl some stickers with icons and words reading “Shields,” “Rockets” and “Invisibility” and placed them on blank buttons for uninstalled features on the dash — because naturally, I would have uninstalled features.

At some point, I might upgrade my “Brass Tacks” package of air, fuel, fire, 4 wheels, 1 steering wheel, 1 windshield, and a seat or three to include “Marbles,” “Oil Slick” and “Eject” buttons. Because you’re never too old to learn something stupid.