Millenials

     I work as the lighting guy at an event center.  This affords me the opportunity to casually witness a number of events that we host.  The events range from rock concerts, to luncheons, to conferences, and more.  For the most part, however, these events are a wonderful test of my ability to maintain any relative level interest in the mundane.  (I think I have witnessed roughly 20 "Leadership" conferences/luncheons/brunches/gymborees this year, SPOILER ALERT: They're all exactly the same)  Today, I am sitting through another "Leadership" conference.

     The lights look great - they always do - but my awesomeness is not the point.  One of the individuals speaking today is presenting the "Millenial" generation, and I am quite fascinated.  He defines "Millenials" as the generation of individuals born after 1982, sometimes referred to as Generation Y.  Wait a second, that's me!  What's this old guy know about me?  Here are what he refers to as the seven characteristics of our generation:

SPECIAL

Damn right I'm special!  Okay, maybe not.  In fact, the majority of us aren't the best at something; we probably aren't even above average.  Mathematically, the majority of us are just average.  The presenter highlights the desire for constant positive-feedback, and I couldn't agree more.  I consider it an epidemic.  When everybody gets a trophy, it stifles competitive spirit.

SHELTERED

I had to take a break form writing because I was busy eating banana bread that my mom sent me in the mail.  Did I actually take a break from writing? No.  Does my mom occasionally send me baked goods in the mail? Yes.  I fully acknowledge that I am part of a sheltered generation, and I will not dispute that.  I think it lives hand-in-hand with being "Special".  It renders us afraid of risk-taking, and any activity that might leave us vulnerable.  He makes a strong point that, "We want privacy, but what we really want is attention."

CONFIDENT

I am unabashedly writing a blog that features awkwardly honest descriptions of my life, as well as my perceptions of others.  I am not the only one that does this.  Everyday, we boldly proclaim our opinions online. Much like the Honey Badger, some of us just don't give a shit.

TEAM-ORIENTED

The speaker is talking mostly in respect to being team-orineted in a business environment.  I agree in so much as we believe that our opinions are equal, and we want to be treated as such.  I disagree, however, because I believe our generation has a strong inclination towards personal success.  Although we may rely on a team, there is a strong desire to be the best and to assert one's self.  The competitive nature of college admissions is one example wherein each person is striving to distinguish themselves.

ACHIEVING

Achieving links closely to his "Special" characteristic.  Given an upbringing that cultivates through positive-reinforcement and sometimes false approval, there is an ever present desire to seek positive reinforcement; it's like a drug addiction.  We got hooked on the optimism drug when we were young, so we are forever trying to achieve feats to regain that euphoria.

PRESSURED

The speaker places particular emphasis on our overloading our schedules, and multitasking.  I have a blog post due at 5 PM, which I am writing while at work where I am listening to a speaker while monitoring the lighting in the room.  In the meantime, I made two fantasy football trades and browsed the front page of Reddit.  Even though I don't acknowledge any "pressure", I can assure you that there is a subconscious fear of free time.  We feel pressure to be occupied and busy.

CONVENTIONAL

This is one particular characteristic that I do not agree with.  I believe our generation is incredibly unconventional.  We like to discover and learn, and our methods for approaching problems are always changing.  We do not adhere to a conventional set of instructions; we prefer to learn on our own.

     Although I did not agree with every point of his, I think he makes some very valid observations.  It's weird having someone explain your generation to you because my initial reaction is defensive, but then he pretty much nailed it.  He goes on to describe our generations desire to be constantly-connected, and how we don't know how to exist otherwise.  He is correct.

     What I found so fascinating about his presentation, however, is that it was not at all cynical.  In my blog, I take a look at our generation in a cynical and pseudo-nostaligic manner.  He made me look at it in a different light.  He explained that there is noting wrong with our generational differences and expectations.  He embraced the changing ways of communication, and he emphasized that even his generation must acknowledge that change.  My opinions about taking back game night remain unchanged, but I can't help but see a little more to the other argument.

      In light of today's discoveries, I think I'm going to watch You've Got Mail featuring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.  For the bold among you, however, I highly suggest the original Shop Around the Corner (1940) starring James Stewart and Margaret Sullavan.  The two films create an interesting look at generational changes in communication.  The same story but one with letters and the other with email, and pretty soon we'll have the next installment with text messaging featuring Zack Efron and Selena Gomez.  I can't wait.  And yes, I remain a little cynical.

Beautiful

Howdy Stranger!

The original first sentence of this post was, "I was reading an article on The Onion this morning, and I came across something interesting", but that sentence is really boring so I replaced it with this one.  So, anyways, I was reading an article on The Onion this morning, and I came across something interesting. (Definitely better as a second sentence)  Much like when Morpheus presented Neo either the Blue or Red pill, I will give you the same choice.  I have for you two links: the link to the article is here Article, and a link to a walrus playing saxophone is here Walrus.  Reading the Article will probably enrich you as a person, and might even make you chuckle.  Watching the Walrus will just make you chuckle and wonder why you haven't amounted to such feats of ingenuity.  Therein lies the decision: High chance of enlightenment with a low chance of chuckles or High chance of chuckles with a high chance of self-degradation.  For you article readers, stick around.

Drugs...

Now that we've taken the leap down the rabbit-hole, please allow me to respond to The Onion article: Nailed it.  First, however, I feel like I must frame The Onion.  As I hope we are aware, and by "we" I mean the 4 people who read this blog, The Onion is a satirical newspaper.  Artfully interlaced in their prose is a pseudo-cynical commentary about the topic at hand.  "Report: It's Not Okay To Just Start Talking To People You Don’t Know" tackles the issue of striking up conversations with strangers in everyday environments.  It goes on to vehemently oppose the idea, going so far as to consider people who strike up conversations "Assholes".  Wrapped in it's satire, I believe that the article is really about Fear.  It is so much easier to remain silent when around strangers, and the article is a condemnation as much as it is a challenge to people to consider their interactions with one another.  Before shit starts getting too real, I should probably make my weekly movie recommendation: Throw Momma from the Train featuring Danny DeVito and Billy Crystal. Anne Ramsey is lovely for all of you Goonies fans out there.

Such a pleasant lady

And...we're back. Fear. Strangers. Disco Fever. Now that we're late enough the post, I suppose I can actually say what the post is about.  The Onion article, if taken seriously, is sadly true but wholly incorrect. Not acknowledging strangers is exactly what imprisons us.  There was once a time where meeting new people was almost entirely dependent on our ability to hold discourse with strangers.  (Yo, yo, postmodern child getting all nostalgic up in here!)  Nowadays, there are so many other outlets.  I recently attended a conference where one of the speakers was literally Tweeting from the stage.  To me, that meant he was no present, he was not in the room with us.  He was elsewhere.  He was somewhere where he felt safe.  Striking up conversations with strangers is terrifying and makes us vulnerable.  Tweeting to an audience that is limited to 140 characters to reply is not.

To think they were strangers when the movie started...

So, my rant continues three posts later.  Talk to me.  Let's enjoy a little time.  I once took a train ride from Los Angeles to Chicago with a friend of mine.  It took 48 hours.  In that time we shared stories not only with each other, but with dozens of complete strangers.  The Navy couple from San Diego, the pitbull breeder from Albuquerque, and the scruffy potentially homeless stowaway from Gary, Indiana.  The Onion got the satire complete right because the message is so completely wrong.

That kid also narrates Arrested Development

This Blog Post is Late

Through a series of non sequiturs and occasionally incoherent rambling, my Hello World post posed the question, “What does it mean when our social interactions move online?” Well, here we are a little over a week later, and I have learned one fact: this blog post is late. That’s right, a whole two days late. This post should have been released by 5:00 PM on Friday, but here I am in the early afternoon on Sunday submitting this post. Not on time, no, late. Tardy, if you will. If I read the syllabus with the thoroughness that I should have, I would probably know that I am only going to receive half-credit for this post. But alas, I started this sentence with a conjunction. Also, I think this is a great time to make a movie recommendation: The Money Pit starring Tom Hanks and Shelley Long, but I digress.

Two Weeks.

 This post is late because of a popular dung heap I like to call Time Warner. I sat down at my laptop Friday afternoon, and I opened my World Wide Web browser and I received the wonderful “Connection Error” screen. “Hmm,” I thought to myself, “it appears that I have a full connection to the wireless network, but I do not have any internet.” It was just about that moment that I heard screams of agony from the neighboring room. Apparently one of my housemates was 2% away from successfully downloading the entire fourth season of the critically acclaimed television series The Twilight Zone when the internet decided to die. I know we’ve all been there. (I think it’s for the best anyway, the fourth season is where Rod Serling really started losing his marbles) So, I started another sentence with a conjunction. Right around that moment, I chuckled to myself. By virtue of losing the internet, I could not do my homework. Yes, there were alternative ways for me to find some internet and turn in the assignment, but that is not the point. Here I am, blogging about the implications of our social interactions moving online, and I am presented with the perfect predicament. Where we would once have to turn in a hard copy of our work to an actual professor or TA, maybe even exchange a glance or a few words, we are instead entering our work into an unforgiving, regimented box and clicking a button that we really have no basis to even trust. “Submit!”

Before & After: Rod Serling

Time Warner said they would come that evening to fix our internet problem, so I was excited because I now knew exactly what I wanted to blog about, albeit it a little late. The truck never showed. The next day they sent us what I will refer to as the Time Warner “B Team”. They didn’t have the right part in the truck. “The right part?” I wondered, “You drive around in a utility vehicle specifically equipped to fix cable and internet problems, but today you decided to not bring the whole tool kit?” It made me feel like I hired a plumber who doesn’t own a wrench. To make matters worse, we were out of Lemon Pledge. So here we are, Sunday, and the internet is back, and my post is late. Two days late. But it was strangely kind of cool not having internet. Don’t get me wrong, I love browsing the internet tubes as much as the next guy, but I had a nice long conversation with my roommate last night. It wasn’t anything emotional or deep, but it was an enjoyable conversation. One we haven’t had in a while. One that we probably wouldn’t have had if we had the wonder of the internet immediately at our fingertips.

I’m glad the internet is back; if for no other reason, I can finally do my homework. But I have to start another sentence with a conjunction. It was a two day vacation, and I’m not saying it was all great. The lackluster Verizon 3G on my phone let me know how many emails I was missing; there is a certain anxiety about turning in assignments late; I couldn’t watch “Gangnam Style” by PSY. All serious problems. When the internet came back, however, the world was still spinning. We survived. My housemate downloaded the final 2%, and I now get to submit this post as I listen to the foreboding opening theme of The Twilight Zone while Mr. Serling warns me that “I am traveling to another dimension”. More than you know Rod, more than you know.

Another Dimension Indeed...

Hello World!

I am writing today’s entry while sitting on the toilet. Alright! Now that I have probably lost half my audience and my Mom is the only one left reading (at least that’s what she’ll tell me) I have a confession to make: I am not actually sitting on the toilet. Nope, the toilet is nowhere near me. In fact, I haven’t had a bowel movement in a quite some time now. I am not incontinent. Rest assured, for those of you that may have been concerned, my bowels work just fine. I need to change the subject. I am finding it quite difficult to continue in any sort of scholarly direction given that I started our first entry by lying to you all and then assuring you that my bowels are okay. In fact, I just used the Ctrl-F “find” feature and discovered that my two most used words are “toilet” and “bowels”. If there’s anything that I learned from the FX hit TV Show The League, however, it’s that the majority of important phone conversations among men take place while sitting on the toilet. Which segues me so artfully into my next point.

The majority of the show, however, does not take place on a toilet.

Even though I am not sitting on the toilet as I write, I could be. In fact, I might as well be. That’s the beauty of it. A moment I like to refer to as...wait for it...The Day the Board Games Died. Yes, that just happened. It’s like when the guy in the movie says the name of the movie in the movie. Hell. Yes. The Day the Board Games died is a curious moment in our generation when any and all elements of our human connection started to move online. In a random pot luck order, our conversations, our moments, our thoughts, and eventually, our games moved online. We stopped looking each other in the eye when we stopped to talk. If we stopped to talk. Our conversations often contain that beautifully awkward benchmark where our phone vibrates in our pocket and we instantly grow anxious. “Why the hell am I listening to you right now? I could have gotten a text/email/tweet/pinterest, or worse. I could have been tagged in a photo on Facebook in this is that brief window of time where I can save myself! Why did my friend bring a camera to Vegas?!? WHY ARE YOU STILL TALKING?” Then we stopped taking a break to chat. Sadder yet, when we stopped looking each other in the eye and having conversations, something inside of us still yearned for that human connection. So we turned to the only place we knew. The Internet.

I say “we” because I am guilty too. I am very comfortable sending text messages and tweeting from the safety of my room (or porcelain throne). But not Board Games. No. I love board games. I think they can test anything and everything wonderful about a person’s character. Someone wins (I usually do), and someone loses (the other guy), and I revel in that. I play for that moment. I play because for that brief evening we laughed, we competed, we yelled, we won, we lost, we may have cried, we may have fought, but in the end, we did it together. We rolled the dice. We drank the beer. The internet is trying to steal it. I won’t let it.

What victory looks like.

I’m taking back Game Night. I won’t let a benchmark of our humanity slip away. I want to beat you, and I want to look you in the eye when I do it. Who knows? If game night makes a comeback, phone calls might too. If phone calls make a comeback, maybe grabbing coffee will. And if grabbing coffee makes a comeback, maybe it won’t be so weird when I stand outside your window in a tan duster holding a boombox over my head playing Peter Gabriel (Say Anything, watch it).

Say Anything (1989)

 Hello World. I’m excited to be here. Now, let’s roll some dice.