Visiting royalty

To paraphrase the late Gene Siskel, one of the best things about being a journalist is that you get to meet a lot of important people. One of the worst things about being a journalist is that you have to meet a lot of important people.

And here’s something you might not know, but probably suspect: Political VIPs play as fast and loose with other people’s time as they do with other people’s money.

There are few things more butt-chapping irksome than being at the mercy of people who demonstrate open contempt for everybody else’s time. The medical profession is the worst on that score. (I’ve never set foot back in the Hughston Clinic since a broken finger and a 10 a.m. appointment , when a receptionist announced to the room at 2 p.m. that they were “running a little behind.” Thanks, Professor Hawking.)

Doctors have something of an excuse for time-management arrogance. The excuse usually isn’t adequate to the arrogance or the time, but at least there is one.

Politicians just have the arrogance. Throw in a buck for every time we’ve sat around a conference table waiting for some governor, senator, congressperson or other ostensible notable who should have been there a half-hour ago and apparently can’t tell time or dial a phone, and we’d solve the economic crisis. (Word has it that Bill Clinton is the worst of the lot. I wouldn’t know; presidents, as the vernacular has it, are above my pay grade.)

A typical specimen of the species, a relatively high-ranking state official, scheduled a visit not long ago. About 15 minutes into what should have been the meeting this eminence’s office had asked for, we get the call – not from the eminence (natch), but from an aide.

We’re running a little late.

Strike one.

So this honorable shows up with a politician’s usual ridiculous retinue of acolytes, serfs and suckups (strike two), talking on a cell phone (strike three and out) – a conversation that continues all the way up the elevator and does not conclude until we are all sitting around the table waiting.

And you know what the really pathetic thing is? None of this was in the least unusual or surprising.

If I had one message for every politician or political appointee, regardless of party or ideology, it would be this: Unless you have your hand on the proverbial button, you’re not that freaking important. Cultivate some perspective. And while you’re at it, some damn manners.

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