Janelle Evans

In my opinion, there is nothing ruder than a person who is habitually late.  Even if you’re only one minute late, you’re still late.  It’s selfish and disrespectful to the person or persons stuck waiting for you.  What about their time? Isn’t it as valuable as yours?  Yes, I understand things can go wrong, but let this be the exception not the rule.  If you know it takes you an hour to get ready don’t start thirty minutes before you need to leave.  A wise person would start an hour and a half earlier, giving themselves extra time for the incidentals-of-life that crop up.

I don’t care if this was the way you were raised.  It’s no excuse.  We all have bad habits.  Anything can be overcome with a little self-control.  Do you really want to be the kind of person that no one trusts, or the butt of every joke at a group gathering?  “Oh the so-and-so family’s late again.  Surprise, surprise!  Thank goodness we didn’t put them in charge.”

Do yourself a favor, have a little class, and make sure you always show up on time.  Really, a few minutes early would probably be best.  Everyone, not just your employers and college professors, will like you a whole lot better.

This summer my daughter met her first violin.  It was love at first sight. Enraptured with its beauty and strings, all the way home from her friend’s house she emphatically tells me she wants to play the violin.  I smiled knowing exactly how she feels.  As a kid, I felt the same when our family piano arrived.  What I couldn’t tell her was how difficult it is to play an instrument.  Only someone who has actually tried will ever understand.  Now there are a lucky few who seem to be able to play instruments with ease.  I am not one of them and we now know for sure neither is my daughter.

“It hurts,” she cries every time she pushes down on the strings with her weak and un-calloused fingers.  With each passing week, those strings once plunked with juvenile fun are becoming more and more like barbs digging into her fingertips.  Her untrained muscles struggle to keep the violin up in the right position, and the bow might as well weigh fifty pounds.  She can move it back and forth just fine, it’s sliding across the correct string she can only seem to do about every fourth note. (Oh my ears!)

The first blush of discovery has melted away.  I knew it would.  It did for me too.  I hope she will stick with it better than I did with the piano.  It’s my biggest regret.  I still have the piano, but I only play well enough to be adequate when absolutely needed, yet I could have been fantastic if I’d only persevered.

When you’re young it’s hard to see the good in a struggle, especially in this society where ease is expected and almost demanded.  But the truth is most things worth doing will more than likely be hard, especially at first.  Keep a good support group behind you.  They will help keep you going.  That’s the role I’m playing now, the often not so gentle reminder, “You begged me to play the violin, now get in there and practice, pumpkin.”

As a writer of Young adult books I spend a lot of time observing teenagers.  I’ve done it for so long I often find myself creeping closer to unsuspecting kids in conversation all the time.  This week, while at the high school waiting for my daughter’s violin lesson to end I caught a doozy that got me to thinking.

A young girl in tears came barreling past me and fell onto the next bench against the wall where I was sitting.  Not soon after there came a trailing friend who sat down next to her.

She put her arm around the one crying.  “Why did you take off like that?”

“Did you see Mary Nance?” (Not really her name.)  “I waved but she walked right past.  Am I that awful that she can’t even acknowledge me?”

Now this is the part I loved.  Her friend showed great maturity with this response.  She said, “Maybe she just didn’t see you.”

I can’t count how many times someone has come up to me offended because I hadn’t waved or said hello the day before when they saw me in my car or in a store.  Usually when I’m out-and-about, I’m going ninety-miles-an-hour mentally clicking through the thousand things I have to do that day.  Unless you shove your face right into mine, there’s a good chance I won’t see you.  It doesn’t mean I’m a snob, or I don’t like you.

Our lives are hard enough without adding grudges for slights that didn’t really happen.  Before you have a come apart or decide to hate someone for life, make sure that laughter you’re hearing or the ignoring snub you think your receiving is really directed at you.  It’s easy to do.  It’s called ask.