Timing is Everything

My friend Jim believed time mattered. Not just his own, but everyone’s. He treated punctuality as a form of respect.

He set every clock and watch ten minutes fast. If he said he’d arrive at 6:00, he’d be in my driveway at 5:50. I didn’t mind that so much in the evenings, but in the mornings, when I was clinging to every last ounce of beauty sleep, it was another story. Still, he’d sit quietly in the car until the clock struck six. That was Jim. That’s one of the reasons I loved him.

When David and Michael were playing on the high school golf team, their coach Steve, set the bus departure time at 8:08, 11:42 or 2:56. Odd times like that. While the average guy might think that was unusual, golfers didn’t. They sounded like tee times and tee times are important to golfers. The boys never missed the bus.

One of my fellow superintendents had a similar policy. He set meeting times so people would pay attention. David died almost two years ago, and keeping with tradition, the first day of his memorial visitation was held from 4:04pm – 8:08pm on a Monday. A celebration of life service was held at 3:03pm on Tuesday in the high school gym. There was also a visitation from 1:01pm – 3:03pm. People remember things like that.

About fifteen years ago, Elizabeth invited me to conduct a workshop with all of the staff of the residential treatment facility where she served as clinical director. There were social workers, medical personnel, behavior aides, clerical and administrative staff, and phycologists.  She brought in extra staff to cover some job assignments so everyone could attend.

Ruth and I were spending the winter in Palm Springs at the time. I made the two-hour and fifteen-minute drive to San Diego where the workshop was held. It was a two-day event followed by a third day the following week. Things went well the first day, but on the second day, three or four attendees were late. Upon arrival they interrupted our work and asked to be brought up to speed. I was unhappy with their tardiness. Their request for special treatment pushed me over the top.

I delivered a mini lecture on tardiness. “When you show up late, and ask for special treatment, you’re saying that you’re more important than the people who showed up on time. You’re not. In addition, you’re being disrespectful to your supervisor, Elizabeth, who wanted you to gain this information.  She thought it would be helpful to you as an individual and the organization as a whole. You’re also being disrespectful to me, the presenter, and those you work with. Elizabeth didn’t need to make these arrangements on your behalf. I certainly don’t need to be here. And you’re not any more important than those who made the ten-minute walk to the room to be on time.”  I’m sure the violators didn’t like it, but I just had to say it.

I have people in my memoir writing and my Singles New Beginnings groups who show up late for class. I don’t like that either. While the occasional tardiness may be unavoidable, chronic tardiness is.

One of the Group Agreements in Singles New Beginnings is “begin and end on time”. It’s a simple statement aimed at helping outline expectations for the group. The meetings are held at the same time and place every week. They’re not a surprise.  People don’t just stumble in. They come “on purpose”. When they show up their first time, they may not be sure what to expect but first impressions are important.  Show up like you care.  People like that.  It’s a sign of respect.

Many of us are in a hurry. I’m sometimes guilty of over scheduling myself and I walk in just as my dance class is about to begin. I need to do a better job.  I sometimes let time get away from me but I’m never late for golf.

I’m going to start setting my watch ten minutes early like Jim, so I’m never late for anything.  You might consider that option yourself.