The Bakersfield Californian, KERO 23, KGET 17, among other media outlets, reported on the graduation of the Standard Middle School. It turns out that at the start of the 6:30 p.m. scheduled event the superintendent locked the doors so the ceremony could proceed without interruption of distraction. A number of guests who arrived late were precluded from entering the room from that point forward. Outrage ensued. In none of the reports I saw did any of the reporters point out that arriving late was not the school’s fault but solely of the latecomers. In none of the reports I saw did any of the reporters point out that arriving late was, perhaps, not the best way to show support for their hardworking children. In none of the reports I saw did any of the parents take real ownership for their late arrival. They all gave excuses. “There was traffic.” “I only arrived five minutes late.”
Full disclosure: I am predisposed to arriving on time. Are there times when I am late? Certainly. When I am, I know it is my fault. Except in the most extreme cases it is actually possible to be on time, provided that the event is important enough for you to be on time. Oh, and by the way… you all agree with me.
The vast majority of readers of this newspaper, I suspect, are Sabbath observers. The vast majority of readers of this newspaper could tell you what time sunset is this Friday. Of those people, 99.999 percent will be where they intended to be at the appointed time. We can do it when it is important. We do it regularly when it is important. So why are there only eight people in shul at 9 a.m. on Shabbat morning at the start of davening, when by the time the service is over there are 300? To be clear: If you think davening is too long or your kids can’t sit in shul and you plan to get there at 9:30, then you aren’t late (by this definition at least).
There is an old Prussian Army maxim: “Five minutes early is on time.”
A number of years ago, I was scheduled to present to the CMO of AT&T (not trying to impress anyone—okay, maybe a little) on a Friday. As a rule, I do not travel on Friday (see paragraph above). The meeting was scheduled in their offices in Atlanta for 12 noon. Shabbat was at about 6 p.m. I have made the Newark to Atlanta flight many times before and since (I worked on Coke as well, impressed yet?). If the meeting were first thing in the morning there would have been no issue. If the meeting had been scheduled for 2 p.m. I would have arranged to stay in Atlanta for Shabbat. As luck would have it, the meeting started late (did I mention it was with the CMO?) and ended late, but I made it to the airport on time only to find out that the flight was delayed.
At this point, I had a choice. I had plenty of time to get food and hotel room and hunker down for Shabbat, or I could roll the dice and try to make it home. I approached the information counter. Having spent some time in the travel business, I knew the lingo and was able to narrow down the reason for the delay and determine that the flight was likely to take off about one hour late and therefore still give me an hour plus cushion after landing. The flight backed away from the gate on the newly scheduled time and then sat on the tarmac for another hour. There went my cushion. When I arrived at Newark, the driver saw I was in a rush and he started running for his car as I followed. I arrived home three minutes before shkiya. It was the first time in my life I went into the “eighteen minutes,” but I made it home for Shabbat.
How many of you were late to your children’s wedding? How about the important career-changing interview? If it is important to be on time, then all of us find a way to do it. Yes, all of us.
I work for a big company and attend many meetings. It astounds me how many people routinely show up late to meetings. To me it shows a lack of respect for everyone who managed to show up on time.
I used to run a team meeting once a month. While we never told people what time they had to come into the office on a regular day, on the first Monday of the month the meeting started at 8:45 a.m. At 8:45 the doors closed, and if you got to the building late you could not attend the meeting. Slowly but surely people learned what it meant to be on time. Mind you, there was no real punishment to not attending other than their supervisor telling them they needed to apologize to me for being late. One Monday in February there was a serious snowstorm. As I was driving in through the inclement weather I decided that anyone who came late would be allowed in. The snowstorm was not predicted to be this bad. On the other hand, those people who did arrive on time should be rewarded. I chose to give the “on-timers” an extra day off that year. I would announce it at 8:45 to all those there and the rest wouldn’t even know what they missed. Out of 50 people, 48 showed up on time. There is hope.
At the end of the day, all the excuses for arriving late are just…excuses. They tell whomever you are explaining them to that something more important came up and you couldn’t be bothered to show up on time. When you start to get all bothered about how harsh that sounds because you really had a good excuse, remember it is… an excuse.
By Mark Zomick
Mark Zomick is SVP of Data Strategy at VM1 (a division of Zenith Media). He is a past president of the Young Israel of Teaneck and current co-president of TABC. He also serves as a producer and music director for the Nachum Segal Network, a position he has held for more than 30 years. His opinions are his own but should be yours as well.
