New Thing #36: yellow lights mean slow down

I mentioned in my last post that I haven't done a New Thing in, like, forever, and then, in the comment thread, Lindsay mentioned that she had noticed that my New Things had been rather sparse lately, (she didn't actually use the word "sparse," she used the word "dearth," as in: "I have noticed the dearth of new things") (which is much more descriptive than saying "new things have been sparse") (dearth is a great word) (I mean, really: who made up that word back in the day when people were busy making up words? death + earth = dearth) (it's brilliant) (I don't know the last time I used the word dearth) (I'm going to a birthday shindig tonight and I'm gonna use it there--I'm just gonna sprinkle it into conversation, wherever it seems to fit) (I use the word "parched" a lot, whenever I'm thirsty, because "parched" is also a great word, and about a week ago, I told someone I was parched, and she looked at me like I was crazy and said, "I have never heard anyone ever actually use the word 'parched' in a real sentence" and I was shocked because doesn't everyone use the word "parched" in real sentences?) (not that the word "parched" is anything like the word "dearth," but I suppose they do have similarities, in that they both refer to the absence of something) (why am I still talking about words and not blogging about New Things?) (back to what I was saying) (in case you've forgotten, I was saying that Lindsay noticed that my New things had been rather sparse lately) and I started to worry that other people were beginning to notice that my New Things have been rather sparse, and that people would grow tired (you know that 90's threesome movie called, um, Threesome, with Lara Flynn Boyle?) (who has never been as good as she was in Twin Peaks) (have you seen it?) (if I remember correctly, I actually saw it with Gina, my second-and-last girlfriend--maybe I should thank Threesome for helping me realize I liked dudes) (except I still didn't come out of the closet for seven years) (but I'm digressing on my digression) (there's this one moment in the movie when Lara is sitting at a coffee shop with Josh Charles and whatever Baldwin brother that was and she stands up and dramatically says that she has "grown tired" of them, and then she leaves the coffeeshop and I remember thinking what the hell was that? I mean, who says they've "grown tired" of something? It's, like, so 1885) (anyway, I loved that phrase and so after I saw that movie, I started using it all the time--I'd get up from the dinner table with an "I've grown tired of this meal," or I'd leave a friend's house with an "I've grown tired of your company," or I'd get out of bed and haughtily say, to no one in particular, "I've grown tired of sleeping") (You should try saying it sometime, it's bunches of fun) (now I've forgotten what I was saying) (oh, that's right, I was worried that people would grow tired) of my dumb blog and its lack of new things, and they'd revolt, and stop reading. So when I started to worry about that, I started to do a lot of New Things, and now I've done several New Things and I'm actually backlogged on my blogging about them.

I have to start with a New Thing I did today. Actually, it's not a New Thing I did today, but rather a new attitude I've adopted. (In Lindsay's comment, she also commented that she "would love to hear about new outlooks, ideas, and feelings" and I'm happy to oblige, here, now, with this New Thing.)

But first (or second):

Are you (a) one of the people who loved Twin Peaks, or are you (b) one of the people who never watched Twin Peaks, or are you (c) one of the people who thought Twin Peaks was overrated crap, or are you (d) one of the people who loved the first season of Twin Peaks and then thought that the second season was off its rocker?

If you're "a," then you're my best friend; if you're "b," then we need to hang out for 36 hours in front of my TV and then you'll be my best friend; if you're "c," then you never really gave it a shot and you should refer to "b"; and if you're "d," then you're wrong, wrong, wrong (except for that storyline when James left Twin Peaks and had the affair with the blonde woman. That storyline was off its rocker).

The reason I bring this up is that in the Pilot episode of Twin Peaks, Dale Cooper mentions that Twin Peaks is the kind of town "where a yellow light still means slow down and not speed up," and it's a great line because those twelve words tell you so much about that little town. And they make you think about how you don't live in a town like that, and about how often you speed by things, and about how infrequently you slow down and breathe.

I've been thinking a lot about that line today--hearing Dale Cooper say it in my head--and wishing I lived in the kind of town "where a yellow light still means slow down and not speed up" because that's not how I drive at all. When I see a yellow light, I hit the gas. I'm probably late to wherever I'm going because I've probably slept in or spent too much time fucking around online, so I usually really have to get and I've gotta get there soon so I'm not even more late.

But then, this morning, I was sitting at a red light, behind a couple of other cars, when someone else saw a yellow light and started speeding up instead of slowing down. My red light turned green just as his yellow light turned red. But he was still speeding forward, not even in the intersection yet...

The rest of us, we were totally oblivious. We saw our green light and we started to go. And then, suddenly, like I was in a movie, the man who was speeding for his yellow light entered our intersection and cars started hitting each other. The yellow-light-speeding guy hit the car that was two cars in front of me. Then the car in front of me hit the car two cars in front of me. Then the car next to me hit the car in front of her. Then...well, it all happened so quick--within seconds--that I couldn't really keep track of it all.

I had my foot on the breaks, pushing as hard as I could, thanking my lucky stars that I'd just gotten my brakes fixed at the shop yesterday. But cars were still hitting each other, so I didn't have time to be too thankful. Pieces of glass were raining down on my windshield. The car in front of me started spinning. He spun three times, then ran into the car who had originally started it all, the yellow-light-speeding guy, who still appeared to be accelerating, and they both smashed into the center divider, sideways, traveling about twenty feet before they came to a stop.

It was all so loud.

And then it was silent.

Smashed up cars were everywhere. All around me. But me and my car were both unscathed. (Well, actually, my car is a wreck in and of itself, so it looked like my car had been part of this current pile-up, but none of my car's dents were created today.)

Thankfully, no one was hurt. As awful as all of the wrecked cars around me were, no one was hurt.

After I was finally able to get back on the road and on my way, I heard Dale Cooper saying that thing about how Twin Peaks is a town "where a yellow light still means slow down and not speed up" and I decided that's where I want to live. If not literally, then metaphorically at least. From now on, when I see a yellow light, I'm gonna decide it's not worth it to start accelerating. From now on, I'm gonna slow down.

And the funny thing is, ever since I made that decision, every light I approach has been yellow. I've stuck to my guns. It's been a mellow yellow day. And, shockingly, I haven't been late anywhere. And, also...

Well, um...nevermind.

I've grown tired of this blog entry.