H82BL8
Five minutes early is ten minutes too late
Some things I’ve inherited from my dad:
skin that beauty influencers might label “on a glide path to melanoma”
a love of fictional detectives, from Harry Bosch to Phillip Marlowe
an extreme form of punctuality
Let’s dwell on this last one for a second.
In the human taxonomy of lateness, there are different species:
Egregiously late: If this is you, then the vast gulf between us might never be crossed. I can’t speak the language, and I can’t see the shore from where I sit. I’m not spiritually able to comprehend how a person can be 30, 45, even 60 minutes late for anything. I get this is in many ways a cultural bias, but before I feel too bad about that, let me also say that I have wholesale envy of egregiously late people. The level of zen needed to regularly push obligations and expectations to the corner of your brain in favor of “we’ll get there when we get there” is a state of mind that Buddha himself would aspire to.
Last minute, scoot in on the nose: I don’t know how to explain this category other than to say these are popular people. Like most other things in their lives, this just works out. Needless to say, this isn’t me.
Ten minutes early: Utter competency. PTA parents. Strategists. Optimists. They’ve figured out the parking, y’all, relax it’s going to be fine. They dress nicely but not outrageously; they have a solid investment portfolio, but don’t flaunt it. Their get-ready routine and sense of traffic and maps is savvy enough to stick the on-time-but-no-stress landing with astonishing consistency.
Egregiously early: raises hand — my name is Mary and I annoy people with my punctuality. I come by this honestly, and as much as I adore my dad, it’s his fault. My poor mother came to the relationship more in the #2 category (she was popular), but all that got drummed out of her as she saw her spouse ready and waiting at the door, prepped to get to church 30 minutes early. We kids didn’t really have a chance, I’m afraid. I spent countless minutes waiting to get picked up by friends who naturally assumed that getting to my house on time was the goal, not naming a time then coming 15 minutes early, as I anxiously expected. I famously got up before my siblings in high school to physically set the kitchen clock hands ahead so that we could get to school around the time the teachers and janitors did.
As I reached adulthood and started attending dinner parties, it dawned on me that being the first one there was annoying to hosts. So I started to (and still do) park a couple blocks away, killing time so I could pretend to arrive casually a couple minutes late. The thought of just leaving my house later doesn’t really occur to me, or fills me with such anxiety that it’s not worth attempting.
During COVID I impulsively decided to get my first and only vanity plate. I marched into the DMV and asked for H82BL8, only to be crushed to learn that some other nerd in Minnesota has the handle. The inferior, but acceptable for the time being, choice was to replace 2 with TO and give them my $150. I wait now, drumming my fingers on the table, for H82BL8 to die so I can grab that handle.
So which is it? Am I embarrassed of this genetic eccentricity or am I proud of it? I’d say mostly embarrassed, but as I get older, I’m leaning in a bit. Truth be told, I do get really prime parking spots.
Just don’t ask me to hold seats for you. I can’t watch you be popular AND do your dirty work.
What’s your level of lateness? I’m curious!! Do you like, dislike, is it a family trait or did you buck the trend? Have you ever been so late you missed something BIG? And do you have a vanity plate? If so, share the handle.
The best Onion article I’ve ever read (see pic above).
Substack is a place for me to yap about all things obituary but also all things life. One of the greatest joys of building this crazy social media presence has been the opportunity to speak to groups of all sizes in a variety of venues about the essential life advice that comes from obituaries. Anybody — in work settings, at home, in relationships — can benefit from hearing the stories of the dead and how they can impact our own choices. It’s the best chapter of my life so far. If you’re interested in learning more about me as a speaker, get in touch: tipsfromdeadpeople@gmail.com.
Is my peculiar form of creativity related to this punctuality business?
Ha! I am rarely late (like I am for this post!).
For any kind of medical or business appt , I generally arrive a few minutes early b/c I've allowed for extra traffic or parking time. For airports or any kind of play or performance (especially if it is in the "big city") I will arrive as much as an hour early and just chill while waiting it out. I never want to be stressed about making the flight or getting to the event on time. For social events (parties and friend gatherings), I am generally on time or maybe five or ten minutes late (to give the host time to breathe).
As a kid, my father took the older kids in the family to the 7:00 or 8:00 Mass every Sunday. He would arrive at least ten minutes early so he could secure the best parking place for making a rapid exit! We NEVER left Mass before the last hymn concluded but then he wanted to be able to jet out of the parking lot.
I am genetically predisposed to arrive at the airport 2 hours early. The one (and only) time I’ve travelled with my bff, she sauntered in when they were calling our plane to board🫠.