The Science of Shopping group 2

• Paco is a genius in regards to the shoppers mind and how to read it.
• There are observations that he makes to interpret the successes and failures of a retailer just by watching ways in which the store operates.
• The interesting ideas in which he incorporates into his results are taken from things that we as consumers would never even realize.
• It is amazing to know that the world is set up for right handers; we view mostly everything we observe from right to left.
• Paco identifies shoppers to be dancers, characters; interesting analogies.
• The average person who walks into a store does not even think on this level.
• Paco brings awareness to the shopper and shopping experience that is quite interesting however controversial to the populations that it targets.

My Yellow Balloon

My Yellow Balloon

     My first parade was an extraordinary experience.  The memory shall be forever etched in my mind; hundreds of people lining the streets with an array of colors streaming from their clothing.  The sky was blue and sounds of the familiar song, "I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy" blared from the ends of the flutes that passed by.  Vendors paced up and down the crowd selling novelty items such as balloons; a rainbow of vivid colors.  Red, orange yellow, green, blue, and purple passed me by.  That yellow balloon was as bright as the sun that shone in the sky that very day. 

   

     I jumped up and down like a Mexican jumping bean as I pleaded with my parents to buy that amazing object.  The parade continued to pass by however my eyes remained fixed upon it still.  My first balloon!  What a joy!  It was mine.  I held the string tightly in my grasp.  My body rushed with excitement as the yellow balloon and I became one; just as a married couple.  To think that many years later that exact union of man and wife would become another joy; every girls dream.  On that day of my first parade I not only experienced joy and excitement, ironically I experienced pain and sadness as well the moment my balloon escaped my grasp.  Tears welled up in my eyes and flowed down my cheeks like water escaping from a dripping faucet.  My balloon and I were now separated by the wide open sky; unable to ever be one again.

     Nothing is forever.  Memories last a lifetime although, once we are gone, they go with us as well.  People come in and out of our lives as well as situations that happen.  Our lives become enmeshed; resembling a ball of yarn.  Each strand of that a ball represents a person, place, event; eventually creating a memory.  There always seems to be that one strand that dangles from the rest.  That single strand that carries much more meaning than all of the other strands in that same ball of "life".  My husband represents that strand; a strand like no other.  Eyes as blue as the sky.  A heart that radiated like a long ray of bright sunshine through the clouds from an early morning sunrise.  His laughter, like a melody of that song, the one that catches your attention and remains in your mind all day long.  And his smile; a warm fire on a cold winters night.  A fire eventually burns out and the warmth escapes into a cold blistery night; March 2, 2003 to be exact.

    The night was cold  however the walls of my own home were even more drafty than the air outside.  Fear, worry and discontentment swirled in my head and my heart like a tornado.  Something was desperately wrong.  The smile was gone.  My forehead muscles were tight as well as those around my mouth.  Nothing felt right.  My husband had relapsed after being clean and sober for five years.  The monster had been awakened.  Blood rushed up and down my body like a flowing river with a strong current as he came and went periodically throughout that night.  With his every return back home his mood escalating with rage and anger then plummeting with tears begging for forgiveness.  Was I to blame for this?  Had my relapse several months ago caused him to pick up again?  These questions permeated my brain like a sponge soaked in water.  I tried to reason with him.  I begged him to just stay home.  The drugs were the only voice he was listening to.  I was on mute.  Nothing I could do or say would quiet the monster.  I felt his pain.  Familiar with the power of this enemy I had to surrender and put my year and a half old son to bed.  "I love you Bruce" I said as he walked out the door.  "I am not angry".  I watched his truck pull out of the driveway.  The night was dark and the tail lights faded like a setting sun as he drove away.

    

     In the morning I awoke to the sounds of my son stirring beside me.  I picked him up and headed for the bathroom to change his soggy diaper.  The bathroom door was slightly closed.  I pushed it open to find his gray toes emerging from the Burgundy tile wall to my right.  Immediately a feeling of complete emptiness encompassed my entire being.  The bathroom floor a sheet of ice beneath my feet.  Unable to speak.  Unable to hear anything around me.  I walked towards him without even telling my feet to move.  My son had gone over to sit on his chest.  "Daddy" he said.  The gurgling sound like that of the last water to descend down the drain once it is released from an emptying sink.  I panic and try to revive him.  Mouth to mouth. Nothing is working.  I am too late, he is gone;  lying lifeless in his blue and green plaid flannel pajama pants and gray shirt.  He had become that yellow balloon I could still see in the sky; separated by this enormous space that prevented me from ever having it firmly in my grasp again.

     The days that followed were filled with family and friends surrounding my existence.  I had nothing left other than his photos, personal possessions, memories and a poem that he had written on the last night of his own existence. 

  

Free At Last

"You fill my heart with happiness,

you are my every need.

You've given my soul,

It is my heart you've freed.

I was but a prisoner,

Alone and in despair.

You've given me my life back,

I know you truly care.

I promise I will love you,

Be all your dreams come true.

I'll hold you when you're weary,

I'll never give up on you.

My thanks are never ending,

I know that its been hard.

I'll give you all there is of me,

And give the same to God.

I'll tell you that "I love you",

With every breath I take.

The past is gone forever.

I won't make that mistake.

So wrap your arms around  me,

Never let me go.

I'll be the man that you deserve,

My actions they will show.

Once again, I thank you

for giving me my life.

I thank God every moment,

for making you my wife."



     With everything we lose there is always something we gain. A better understanding of how precious life is or to understand the value of what we have while we have it.  Remember that nothing is forever so cherish it; whatever it is. Everything eventually becomes a memory; just like that first yellow balloon.