But this weekend I couldn't help myself. It happened while I was on an elevator early in the day at a resort in Mexico.
Also on the elevator were three teenage boys. They were in bathing suits and had a cooler chest and other beach stuff.
Just as the elevator reached our destination on the bottom floor something happened. Instead of the door opening, the elevator headed back up - to the 10th floor where we'd all gotten on.
They were upset. It seemed like their day was ruined. They were accusing each of other of pressing the wrong button. Of not leaving early enough. The sodas would get warm. Everybody would be mad at them. It seemed like a lot of drama over a five minute delay. They looked almost ready to fight.
But me, I was waiting patiently, accepting that we were on a round trip. But finally I couldn't restrain myself.
"So you guys are going to be late?" I asked.
They got quiet. They looked at me as if I were from another planet. None said anything. But I think they understood. Because they were quiet for the rest of the ride.
As I left the elevator I reflected that all too often we're so interested in the next wonderful thing that we lose the moment we're in. And we do that because that's what our culture teaches us to do.
After all, isn't right now the next great thing we were looking forward to a little while ago?
