I think it’s quite important to be on time, whenever possible. I can’t fathom why “fashionably late” ever got traction. I suppose it’s one thing if you’re going to a party, and your coming or going has no real impact on the event at hand. Fine, in that case, go ahead and be “fashionably late.” After all, it’s significantly easier to join in an already-hopping soiree than it is to get one hopping by yourself.
My father used to like getting us places (particularly airports) obscenely, painfully early, which was also no good, mainly because boredom and “no good” are like peanut butter and jelly. Still, it had its merits, especially compared to the alternative.
The primary reason I don’t like to be late is, it’s disrespectful of others’ time, but the secondary reason is this: I carry lots of bags, books, papers, pens, packets, sacks, satchels, sheets, files, folders and so forth. Unless I’m prepared to manage a small municipality using only what I have on my person, I don’t tend to be very comfortable. It’s a bit of a paradox. As such, entering, and settling into, a room for, say, a meeting, is no small affair for me. It’s boisterous, at best, and I’m not looking to draw any extra attention to it.
Ideally, I would arrive at my destination no less than five and no more than 15 minutes early. Ideally, I would also go to the gym and get exercise once in while in a half-hearted effort to promote my own unlikely longevity, but both of the aforementioned things have all but stopped happening since the closure of the Clinton Street bridge. (Surely my fellow Defiance residents also frequented some establishment that is now too far away to bother; mine’s the gym.)
It’s been a few months since I’ve publicly bemoaned the closure of the Clinton Street bridge, largely because I’ve gotten used to it. Perhaps you have, too. As a result, having a fully functioning, crossable bridge once again is going to seem like an almost impossible luxury, and I can’t wait — absence truly does make the heart grow fonder.
I’ve theorized I could probably cross it now... This theorizing is generally done late, late at night, when my already questionable judgement has worn thinner and the vast array of snacks available at Circle K is whispering from across the water. Now, of course I haven’t done this, crossed the unfinished bridge — my luck I’d somehow break the bridge and they’d have to start over — but it seems at least a smidgeon more reasonable than the snack kayak for which I advocated with vigor in the early days of bridge closure.
In those early days of bridge closure, something rather beautiful happened: everyone was late for everything, and it didn’t, it couldn’t, really matter. The pressure was off. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot about the detour.” “Sorry I’m late, forgot you couldn’t take the bridge...” And all was well, and all involved exhibited an absolutely unparalleled level of understanding.
This week, when I failed to save the proper time to get from point A to point B on account of the bridge, it occurred to me that those days of infinite understanding are over. We have been sans bridge long enough for any reasonable person to start taking this into account in their planning. So just like that, the very thin silver lining accompanying this bridge closure is gone for good.
Less than a month, folks. That’s what they say. Hopefully the gym and the snacks will work to balance each other out...