Lately I’ve been hearing those “real American heroes” commercials in my head.

You know, the Bud Light beer commercials for the guy who totes around a 20-gallon picnic cooler for 16 ounces of macaroni salad and a quart of baked beans. Or how about the guy who proposes to his girl via the baseball marquee and hopes she isn’t in the bathroom.

Well, I have another “real American hero.” It’s Mr. Check Engine Light Inventor.

Heaven knows since the first car any of us have bought, there have been mechanical troubles.

I got early hints my car needed work when I would go out and it wouldn’t start. Or there was the 53 DeSoto that landed me in court as a high school student because I was afraid to stop at a stop sign for fear it would stall out.

I can remember waiting to get into a Rolling Stones concert in Pittsburgh, listening to Stones music on the car radio (since that’s all classic rock stations play when the Stones are in their city) when the car completely died.

I knew there was something wrong.

When the car had no lights, I knew something was wrong.

When I switched gears but the car acted like I didn’t, I knew something was wrong.

But what happens when the car runs smooth, it takes me where I want to go, no fuss, no muss? Am I permitted to simply go my merry way, figuring all I have to do is put gasoline in the thing once in awhile?

No, no, no. That’s where Mr. Check Engine Light Inventor comes into play.

Even when nothing tell-tale is wrong with the thing, it is running smoothly, there is no exhaust noise, the vehicle starts right up, you always have the potential for Check Engine Light.

At our home, we have two Subaru Foresters. For the most part, they are good cars. They both have more than 100,000 miles on them. Living out in the country with a driveway longer than some small communities, it gets me out and going, even after a big snow storm.

But shortly after buying the first vehicle, like the next day, Check Engine Light was on.

Now this was fairly new to me, sort of like the Internet in 1990.

I thought, Oh my God, a check engine light on a $22,000 car. I’m afraid if I turn the ignition again, the thing will blow up.

So I called my faithful dealer and he said not to worry, it could be driven during Check Engine Light, but just get it in to be looked at. Turns out that time it was because the gasoline cap wasn’t screwed on correctly, even though it seemed to be screwed on correctly.

When we got our second Subaru, the same thing happened. Eh, I said, it goes along with the new car smell.

Dealer removed the warning and told us where we should go to buy gasoline. That might have something to do with Check Engine Light, which I am getting tired of typing, so will herewith refer to as CEL. (Should have done that earlier.)

I will admit CEL would not be a problem for long periods, then one day, there it would be.

I remember cooling my heels at the dealership one day with a CEL. I was told it was a sensor that had gone bad. Never mind the car was running smoothly. I didn’t know what the sensor was for. Couldn’t be too terrible if the car was running OK.

All I needed to know at that point is I would have to shell out $300 to get the damned light to go away.

In contrast to when I got the vehicle, a few weeks ago the CEL went on and I pretty much ignored it. I had an oil change coming in three months. I would deal with it then.

This time a gas line valve had rusted a bit, causing a drop in pressure which caused the light to go on. Wife and I were out of town and the car was parked in the garage. Unfortunately, son, daughter-in-law and sophisticated grandson were coming to visit. We got a phone call while we were 200 miles from home from son Derek saying the place reeked of gasoline and where were keys to the car so he could park it outside. The fumes weren’t good for the baby and an explosion wouldn’t be a benefit to anyone.

When I got home I made an appointment to get the problem resolved. Meanwhile wife’s car got a CEL. Since she was driving to North Carolina in a few days, she decided to have it checked. The verdict: Catalytic converter. Repairs: $900.

I was deep in thought on the way home from work one night, thinking how I could make in profits by taking regular electrical tape and reselling it as Check Engine Light electrical tape. I figured I could buy a standard roll of tape at, say, $2, and sell it for $4.50 if people thought it was especially made to hide the CEL display.

I could include directions: Place tape directly over Check Engine Light display. For maximum coverage, place two or three strips in overlapping succession.

Yeah, a silly idea. What woke me up from my potential million-dollar money-making idea was - no joke - the check engine light reappeared on my dashboard.