“The average person spends two weeks over their lifetime waiting for the traffic light to change.”
—Tom Waits
Watching drivers, for the most part, ignoring the rhythmically changing red, yellow and green colors of the traffic light at the intersection near the coffee shop recently reminded me of a trivia tidbit.
“The first electric traffic light in the country,” I informed my fellow caffeine consumers, “just marked an anniversary. It was installed at the corner of 105th and Euclid in Cleveland, Ohio, on Aug.
5, 1914. Read that in an article in Hemmings Motor News.”
They chuckled as I recounted a line from the story, something about how, “As near as can be determined, the noteworthy anniversary of traffic signal lights used at intersections was duly celebrated with the majority of American motorists continuing their recent tradition regarding traffic lights — ignoring them.”
I recently acquired an old traffic light; it was retired from Nacogdoches, according to the antique dealer who sold it to me. It now hangs from the ceiling in a corner of my “no stress zone” where it displays all the right colors, just like it did when it was commonly ignored and abused by drivers in a hurry to get nowhere.
It glows nicely among the time-honored random refugees: a 1955 Seeburg jukebox, a pair of drive-in movie speakers, oil-company signs, shelves filled with phonograph records and my guitar collection.
The traffic light topic was once teased by “Tonight” show host Jay Leno’s street interviews.
Responses revealed intelligence levels far below minimum requirements for safe driving. They were, as Mom used to say, “More painfully true than humorous.”
The question, “What does the yellow light on a traffic signal mean?” evoked dumbfounded stares.
The answer: “I don’t know … hurry up and speed up to beat the red light …. maybe?”
About the only answer not heard was the correct one: “It is a warning that the light is about to turn red, giving drivers time to stop safely before it turns red.”
And that reminded me of a yellow-light experience years ago and what can happen if the yellow appears after the “stopping safely” option is off the table.
Christmas was close, and Yuletide tensions were peaking at home. To ease the strain one Sunday afternoon, I decided the perfect getaway was shopping alone in the neighboring big city.
Done and heading back toward home, I passed through one of the small communities south of Shreveport where each one has its own traffic light. I saw the yellow just as I entered the intersection and, with a millisecond’s debate, decided, “Too late to stop, I can make it.”
I celebrated too quickly when clearing the intersection and saw flashing lights behind me. So, I surrendered my license and insurance card to the nice officer, whereupon he asked if I was headed back to Center and inquired as to my business in Shreveport.
“Yessir, headed home,” I said. “Christmas anxiety at home was getting out of hand and I just thought it would be a good day for me to do some solo shopping in Shreveport.”
“So,” the officer said, “am I to understand that you left your wife at home to go Christmas shopping alone?”
Before I could formulate a reply, he returned my license and insurance card and said, “Next time you run away from home for some peace and quiet, stop by here and get me. I’ll go with you. Merry Christmas and drive safely.”
“So,” I concluded with the coffee klatch last week, “bad decisions made about a yellow traffic light can be costly. — Unless if you are stopped by an officer with a sense of humor.”
Contact Aldridge at leonaldridge@ gmail.com. Other Aldridge columns can be found at leonaldridge.com.
