Late People

September 21, 2026

I have a confession - I am often a late person.

I wish it wasn’t so.

I really wish it.

No luck.

I’ll start by defending myself in three ways. First, I’m mostly late because I overbook myself. Second, I love people so much that I am often distracted by them at every public nook and cranny in the county. Third, if you are expecting my family in attendance, I have some bad news about the punctuality of the two lovely ladies in my entourage.

Now I’ll tell you why all three of these excuses are bogus.

Fib number one is about availability. Yes, I’ll admit that I often have too many things on my plate. But I can’t claim to be a functional, educated adult and also pretend that I don’t understand clocks, calendars, or how long it takes to drive somewhere. In fact, you could say it is much worse for an organized person to engage in perpetual tardiness, because they should have reminders and schedules staring them in the face all day. I love productivity tools. I use them like a madman. That tension you feel when the meeting is starting in two minutes and I’m not there yet, I’ve been feeling that for the last ninety minutes. And guess what, I still will squeeze those last two emails out before jumping in the car for our rendezvous.

Fib deux? This one is tricky, because I am going to tamp down any prospect of change on my part. The reason is that I don’t see it as a character flaw. As much as it does delay my momentum, talking to people is not only my favorite part of the day, it’s often the most special. I really believe in the importance of our nature as communal creatures. We need each other, and are better for one another’s presence. I love this part of life. And since no puppeteer is controlling me, I choose to focus on the fun part of relational existence and talk to my fellow brethren. No, I’m not late because I got a flat, and the bank wasn’t being held up. I just had to ask Matt about the joys of new parenthood while getting gas, and it would be rude not to rehash last week’s Seahawks win with Michelle while standing around after our kids’ soccer practice had already ended. I love people, and I’m not going to stop.

With fib number three, I’m going to go ahead and throw my whole family under the bus. The three of us are helpless. No matter how hard we try, there is almost no way we are walking out the door with time to spare. In fact, this is so well known that it created one of my favorite memories. What happened was this…

My daughter and wife and I walk into a friend’s home at 6:25 PM. The scene is perfect for a party. Kids run by at lightning speed while the doors flap open and closed. Adults stand in the living room and kitchen, laughing and catching up on the latest scuttlebutt. I walk up to the host and apologize for being so late. She just laughs and says, “Oh it’s no trouble at all, I know your family, so I only told you dinner was at 6:00, but it’s really 6:30, so you are five minutes early!”

You have no idea how much I appreciated that.

They know me.

They really know me.

And they don’t care.

This is the truest mark of friendship.