Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Being on Time


I saw an ad in an issue of the Smithsonian for a wristwatch. I don't wear one any more, not since I started carrying a cell phone (when I remember to). But this two-page ad caught my attention: "We apologize that this watch loses 1 second every 20 million years." The truth is, I've never cared much about the time, and the need for this kind of insane precision is a total mystery to me.

Sometimes someone in a group I'm in will ask the time, and if I happen to be wearing a watch or can pull out my cell phone first, I'll answer the question, "ten to one." Someone else in the group is likely to follow that with, "It's 12:47, to be absolutely precise." "Absolutely precise"? What does it matter as long as it is more or less a quarter to one or ten to one--or twelve forty-seven?

Oh sure, if you set your alarm clock for six AM and it goes off at seven, you might be late for something, but what of it? Most of the appointments in my life do not depend on exact punctuality, and when I have to be at a certain place at a certain time, I am. Ninety-nine percent of the time, however, it just doesn't matter all that much. It's impolite to keep people waiting, so I try to be more or less on time, but being a little late (or a little early) doesn't seem to me to be the worst social blunder.

I read once that people from Northern European countries are much more time-conscious than those from Southern European countries, where arriving within an hour of an invitation is "on time." I'm okay with that. Relax. You'll get where you're going soon enough.

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