Wow you guys, thanks for the warm welcome!!

Coffee'd be real nice.

...in northern California about 1953--when two people were out on a date, and one saw a one-light car, he/she/he would try to say "Pedille!" before the other, and was supposed to be rewarded with a kiss.
That is so funny! My sister and her friends yell out "pediddle" when they see a broken headlight (almost the same word, but not quite), and then everyone is supposed to hit the roof of the car with their hand. Bizarre that the tradition lived on in so convoluted a way, eh? (for reference, I am 23 and my sister is 19)
I am surprised that Ennis's broken headlight is news to so many. I'll go post over on the electricy thread like front-ranger suggested to see what all those fine folk come up with.
I just cannot get these two cowboys out of my head. I didn't go through grief though - I think on the first watching, I didn't really believe that Jack was dead. I mean, movies don't
work like that, you know? Main characters don't just die quietly offscreen. And then on the second watching I knew what to expect and I just had a sick resignedness about it. Now I feel more of a nauseous kind of bone-deep sadness. I'm glad I haven't cried, or I'd have to start trying to explain myself to people. I'll probably check out the short story, but I want to movie to finish digesting first...