We’ve Got Stars Directing Our Fate…

… and we’re praying its not too late
cause we know we’re falling from grace
Millennium

-Robbie Williams

I once went to a presentation that outlined research on the behavior of males of the millennial generation. Two of the findings that stuck out to me most touched on motivation. According to this research millennial males are best motivated when:

  1. They can be gratified by their work instantaneously.
  2. They can see how the work is tangibly beneficial to them.

In other words, the questions that might often be floating through a male millennial’s subconscious when considering the merits of a situation before him might be: I just put in work, where is my reward? and, Why should I do this? What do I get out of this?

Therefore, planting tulip bulbs in the ground might not be a satisfying activity for a millennial male, as he would not get to see the flowers, or benefit of such work for months. Moreover, suggesting that a male millennial take a volunteer course in conflict resolution might not be very appealing. That is until you explain to him that such an experience would look very good on a resume when they graduate, which might ultimately lead to a job.

Now, how might one identify one of these self-serving millennial males? There is a debate as to which date marks the the birth of the the millennials. Some say children of the eighties, others stretch the boundaries back into the seventies. I have always cautiously considered myself an out-group member with a secret concerns regarding my millennialishness (apparently that is a new word that I just invented).

A seemingly insignificant addition of a new household appliance has shifted my perception of self. As a result of our recent vacuum cleaner purchase, I have strong evidence that leads me to believe that I may be of the millennial generation.

I am obsessed with our new Dyson vacuum cleaner.

All of my loved ones can attest to the fact that I have always had an aversion to household chores. It used to be that getting me to vacuum was a chore unto its self. Our Dyson vacuum cleaner, however, has changed everything. The reason being: it is speaks to my male millenialishness.

This particular vacuum cleaner has a large clear canister into which all of the dirt, hair, dust, lint, and who knows what else gets sucked; I can see everything I have vacuumed up in a nice, clear, cylinder container.

The millennial part of me says, “I just pushed a moderately heavy yellow contraption around the house. Where is my reward?”

The Dyson vacuum cleaner responds, Right here! You get a cleaner carpet; this large fuzzy dust-ball you have accumulated in my canister here is evidence of your hard work!

To which I ask, “Why should I do this again? What do I get of this?”

In an exasperated tone, the Dyson vacuum cleaner responds, Pay attention here! I just told you: A cleaner carpet, a giant dust-ball, and ummm… you also get to dispose of the dust ball, using this snazzy red button on top of the canister and a trap door on the bottom.

“…….”

What do you think?

“I accept the terms of this deal. Now, please excuse me as I must now go update my resume.”



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