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Why can’t people show up on time? Here’s what I tell them about punctuality | Opinion

The world, I’ve long believed, can be divided into people who are punctual and people who are late, those with a wristwatch that organizes their lives and those who haven’t met a clock they like. I side squarely and solidly with the on-time crew. Sometimes, I’m even early to events. It calms my nerves and provides me with a semblance of control.

So, it’s difficult for me to understand people who march to the beat of a different tick-tock, people who consider a meeting time as little more than a suggestion. That behavior drives me up a wall. I rant, I pace, I foam at the mouth while waiting. The irony of it all, is that I’ve had to live with this most of my life. A few family members listen only to their own internal clock, oblivious to my impatience and distress. Some of my lifelong friends, too.

Ever the optimist, I’ve tried to counter this practice by giving a different time to these late arrivals. For example, one relative — I won’t name names or cite relationship — is always told the party is starting an hour earlier than it really is, as he and his family are notorious for keeping the rest of us twiddling our thumbs. Another is warned we will start without her crew, even if they happen to be the guest of honor.

This tactic hasn’t worked, at least not on a consistent basis. Last Christmas, we waited for more than an hour for a group that thought nothing of strolling in late for a cold lunch. Tardy doesn’t begin to describe it.

This arrive-late habit isn’t new, but it seems to be more grating the older I get. Maybe it’s because I’m recognizing they won’t change. Maybe it’s because I’ve realized time is limited and precious and something that should never be wasted. Whatever the reason, I’ve taken to haranguing the culprits before a scheduled get-together, pointing to the fact that their lateness, however unwitting it may be, becomes my problem if I’m forced to scramble.

Granted, punctuality may be a uniquely American obsession. As a child, I lived in Bolivia, where an event’s time was merely a recommendation and not a firm order. It was perfectly fine to show up an hour or two late — or whenever. I always found that disconcerting. Yet, this holds true for other societies and countries, where a laid-back lifestyle is the norm and self-worth isn’t measured by how busy you are or how many appointments you have on the calendar.

In fact, historians and anthropologists maintain that the idea of being on time is a relatively new notion, born from the Industrial Revolution that forced us to keep a more rigid, clock-centric schedule. Now we tend to use external cues rather than an internal feel of how long we should engage in an activity.

That said, I can’t help but be on time. Even in elementary school and junior high, I was punctual. That carried into adulthood and now (gasp) old age. I blame my parents, who also kept to a strict schedule long before productivity was a management buzzword.

A few weeks ago, a friend, known for her — how should I put this? — flexible time management, sent me an old article from a respected journal that cites research supporting her no-hurry-show-up-when-I-can lifestyle. Apparently, some studies suggest that those who are always late are better at coping with stress. They’re also labeled “believers” — in other words, they really believe they have plenty of time to stop for a cup of coffee before the morning meeting. They don’t intend to be rude or passive-aggressive.

I will keep in mind this mitigating information, but I doubt it will pacify me when I’m tapping my foot, waiting, waiting, waiting. When I say noon, noon is what I mean, not 12:30 p.m. or 1 p.m. Got that?

Ana Veciana-Suarez
Ana Veciana-Suarez

Ana Veciana-Suarez writes about family and social issues. Email her at avecianasuarez@gmail.com or visit her website anavecianasuarez.com. Follow @AnaVeciana.