By Harvey Mackay
As we grow up, we get a mixed message about being on time. Our
parents have been warned about the damaging effects on our little
psyches of putting us on strict timetables. So we learn to walk and
potty train pretty much in our own good time.
When we get older, the rules tighten up a bit. We are told to be on
time to class and to get our homework in on schedule, but the
consequences of lateness are seldom dire. Even in college, has there
ever been a student who hasn't gotten away with a plea for mercy at
least once for a late term paper?
By the time we reach adulthood, we have learned that in certain
arrogant groups, even being on time is considered undesirable
behavior. They let you know only geeks come exactly on time to a
social event.
All this is hardly preparation for the real world, where being late,
even a tiny bit late, can have painful and permanent consequences.
Years ago, a first-time candidate for alderman mailed out a
political flyer that appeared to be from the city assessor's office.
The candidate won the election by a handful of votes, and the loser,
the incumbent alderman, sued on the grounds that the flyer was
misleading. The judge who tried the case -- there was no jury --
found for the incumbent. But the appellate court ruled that the
incumbent had filed his claim one day late. His claim was dismissed.
Today, the ultimate winner of the lawsuit that resulted from the
obscure alderman race is the governor of his state. He is considered
by many as a potential national figure. The loser is a perennial
candidate, who has not won a single election in the 30 years since
the incident occurred.
One day late.
How about two minutes late?
Large government projects usually are handled by a regulated bidding
process. A megabucks telecommunications project for a large
metropolitan county was let out for bids. All bids were due to be
presented no later than 1 p.m. on the day they were due.
The account exec didn't want to get his bid in early, for fear the
terms would leak to the competition. He timed his submission to the
minute.
But in the Northland, you can't train the snowflakes to conform to
your stopwatch. The umpteenth Blizzard of the Century hit
unexpectedly. The account exec started running late. He called his
boss. The boss slogged over to the government building and stood
outside shivering, while the AE plowed through the snowdrifts in his
car.
The AE pulled up a couple of minutes to 1 p.m. The boss ran out into
the traffic, grabbed the bid package, and dashed to the elevator,
which, of course, stopped on just about every floor. When he finally
got to the top floor and got his bid in, it was stamped "1:02 p.m."
and thrown out.
It doesn't make much sense to work six weeks on a bid and then get
tossed out of the game on a technicality, but that's the way it is.
"The-dog-ate-my-homework" excuse doesn't work in the real world.
Newspaper reporters who can't finish their stories on deadline
aren't newspaper reporters for very long. School administrators know
which teachers and which principals are always late in handing in
reports. One administrator told me that those who regularly handed
in their paperwork late were rarely those who were considered high
achievers and prospects for advancement.
Hey, I know, we're not talking salespeople here. We're talking folks
who do paperwork for a living.
It's a different world with different rules, but if you're in it,
you learn that the most important rule is: Better Never Than Late.
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