Vast Hell

It’s the house on the corner surrounded by a green fence. It’s the place where all the children know to stay away from on Halloween. It’s the white colored house that is filled with blackness inside. They say Mr. Madweird lives there with two teenage sons. No one knows their names. Mr. Madweird is an accountant, working from 9 to 5. He is never a minute late or a minute too early. The two sons are never seen outside playing frisbee with the other boys. They do not even talk at school. Both boys have headphones in their ears, with the music blasting from their I-pod nano. The boys sit in the back row and always leave the minute the bell rings. They do not even visit their lockers.

One long summer day, an army of detectives surround the house. The buzz of the sirens wake up the whole town. Neighbors curiously peek out their windows and some residents even go up the scene of action. Authorities do no let anyone past the yellow line. After a long two hour wait, the three gentleman that no one knows come out with their hands behind their heads. The Feds rush in to make the arrest and put them in a vehicle. The unlabeled vehicle speeds off and many people enter the house.

After about six hours, the yellow line is shortened to the outskirts of the house. A guard is put in front and all the authorities rush off. After 6 more days of unrecognizable faces entering and leaving the house with massive boxes, the yellow line is taken down. Still, no one has the slightest clue as to what has happened. The neighborhood is up and gossiping. The local coffee shop is thriving due to the increased amount of customers. It is the central location of local news. Over there, the old ladies that play scrabble and crossword puzzles are talking like high school girls.

After another week of waiting, the local police tell the residents that the three residents were terrorists. He yells at them for not reporting suspicious behavior. The neighbors say that they never saw Mr. Madweird watering his plants or getting the mail. The police officer does not take the blame off them. He truly believes that it is up to neighbors to make personal efforts to meet and get to know other neighbors. No excuses! He felt that it could have been detected earlier. He said that evidence showed that the two boys, under the father’s guidance, were planning an attack on the neighborhood the next day. He felt that not knowing any of this earlier made the suburban town a vast hell.

Selling the Invisible

Book Update Number 2

The title of the second book that I chose to read over the course of the first quarter is called Selling the Invisible by Harry Beckwith. I chose to read this because I feel this will greatly prepare me for my upcoming DECA competition. I am in Business Services Marketing and this book is giving me insight on how to market an intangible service. I just finished the book and it has an interesting point of view. It offers advice such as thinking dumb and differently. I learned that when people go to McDonald's, they do not go there for the French fries, but instead for the experience. Also, it is not who has the smarter idea but the more creative one. I'm hoping this book will help me get a jump start on my competition. I was doing research and most kids that compete have read marketing textbooks and have been preparing for months. I'm hoping that the insight given in the book is good enough and is something the textbooks won't teach the other competitors. I would recommend this book to whoever is going into the field of business. It truly changes the way you perceive a business.

Hope

Jon went upstairs. He dragged his feet to the hidden corner where the school supplies were located. He opened the drawer with all his might, only finding resistance from a 90 years old piece of furniture. He pulled a little harder and it fell out, letting dust fly throughout the air and causing him to sneeze. There it was. No, not some hidden treasure or a million dollars he was hoping to find. Instead, loose-leaf paper, binders, pens, and even glue stick. Not exactly what he thinks of paradise. He takes his tiny book bag off his back and starts to pile in small amounts of each supply. He packed lightly hoping that the first day of school would go by quickly. In and out.

It was because he didn’t understand the world. It went by too fast for his brain to comprehend any information. Words flew by like the wind. Books were aliens to him. He felt like he didn’t understand a single thing. He memorized his schedule, not with zeal like most of his other classmates had done. He wasn’t looking forwards to English. That was his absolute worst class he was taking. Jon felt English was his second language, which is pretty weird considering he was raised in America.

He packs everything together, and before he goes downstairs, he closes his eyes. He hopes this is his year. That this will be his year he makes his parents proud. That this is when his parents hug him for getting Student of the Month. All his life his parents have yelled at him for bringing home D’s. It was a clear disappointment especially when his brother was a star student and President of his grade.

The day comes and he wakes up. First class he has is Art. He sits down. His teacher is happy and is singing and dancing. He even dresses up in a batman costume. Jon is happy and flies through the day. As time passes by and the year goes on, Art becomes his favorite subject. Not because he is good at drawing, but because of the teacher. The teacher is kind and understanding. The teacher is a new one and he is inspirational. He shows the students to have fun in school and the road to succeed. Jon is not doing well in his other classes. As the time comes the art teacher takes a special interest to Jon. This teacher goes to every other teacher Jon has and tries to see what is happening. The art teacher finds out that Jon has dyslexia. The art teacher then takes time out of his lunch period to train Jon. By the end of the year, Jon is at the top of his class. Jon has received his first A+ in Art and his English skills are solid. Jon is grateful that he has had this teacher and decides to paint his teacher a painting. Jon gives the teacher the painting and the art teacher tells Jon something he never knew. The art teacher also has dyslexia. Jon found hope in a place which dispersed it.

Home sick

You wake up with goose bumps all over your back. Your neck feels like it was used to fry the hamburgers for breakfast. Your eyes are itching and you want to keep them closed. You know that you are home alone because your parents are out of town on a business meeting. You put on your house slippers, go to the phone and call the school attendance office. You tell the sweet lady “My son, Craig, is out sick with a high fever.” Your voice sounds like it is of forty years of age.

You head to the kitchen to swallow a bottle of Robitussin. You love the watermelon flavor and it makes you feel better instantaneously. You don’t feel like going to school and don’t want to deal with explaining why your “parents” called in sick when you are in fact in perfect shape at school. You grab your jacket and head outside. It is 68 degrees and sunny outside. It is a perfect day for a nice walk around the block. You head north because you know that if you head east you are going to have to deal with Mr. Wilson and his long disastrous talks about the Gulf War. You want to be alone. You don’t want to get caught. You feel the breeze lift your hair and part it to the left side. You feel like you are gliding on the pavement. You watch children pile onto the school bus and you smile to yourself. You get to relax today.

As you turn the block you see a man in black checking out a house. You freeze. You feel the sweat start to swarm you. You realize that it is your house that he is peeking into. You hide behind the tree, eying him. You look around. You see no one. It is just you and the robber. You peek even more and try to find Mr. Wilson. Maybe he can help you with his Gulf War skills. You are scared.

You take a deep breath. You say a little prayer. You open your eyes to see the robber climbing into the downstairs window. You take furious steps towards your house. You open your front door and get your cell phone near the kitchen table. You hear furniture being thrown around. You sneak back outside and you call 911. They tell you emergency services are being contacted and you should stay safe. You think to yourself: “What is downstairs?” You have an “ oh shit” moment. You left your parent’s safe open after you took 100 dollars to buy yourself dinner for the week. You see a lacrosse stick. You take it. You put on your gear and you rush downstairs. You yell like a Native American hoping for rain. You attack him from behind and he falls. You hear the police outside. The man tries to get away but you slice him with your stick. The police come. They take him away. You call your parents. Your parents are coming home.

Let's Mix

Party in the boardroom
with Secretary taking notes
listening on details
about the marketing plan.
It's the grand mix
the money maker
the grand chihuahua.
Sweat from excitement
about the next new thing
is ringing
phones across the earth.
Four ideas banging
together
to create a vision
and a dream come true.
Balloons are being filled
and oxygen is being sucked
as the four p's mix together
to create life.
Here it is-
brand new house with
a scenic view of the Pacific Ocean
and built with purple marble
in California for only
300,000 fresh Benjamins with a
sick new commercial to
draw in many clients.
This is it.

3 months
2 days
6 hours
4 minutes
39 seconds.
Time spent creating
this lovely salsa fest for
the real estate business.
Men in ties
creative thinking hats on
using computers to build
a pathway for an upcoming product.
The people who see this magic
are the ones who understand what
it means to be a marketer.
It is not easy
Ever day
different pains
arise from
missing Washingtons
and stupid Sistine Chapel's of
California.
However we have
come to this
This is it.

How to Become a Businessman

Wear a suit. Dress with a tie. Be stern. Look tough. Spend a lot of money. Go to college. Get an internship. Network with meeting new people. Get an internship. Pay attention to detail and be analytical. To be a businessman you must know the business. Study finance in college. Learn the beginnings of Wall Street. When you fail start a new business. Learn vocabulary and know marketing techniques. Prepare at least ten times for an interview. In the end, when you fail start your own business.

Book Update

The name of the book that I chose to read is called Key Concepts in Marketing by Jonathan Sutherland and Diane Canwell. It is non-fiction and the language the authors use is in the style of a textbook, therefore making it tedious to read. I chose to read this book because I felt that it would be able to help me in my upcoming DECA (business) competition. My event is Business Services Marketing and I felt this book would give me insight and an an edge over the competition. The book clearly defines terms used in the marketing world and also gives detailed real life examples to help us understand the topic in a clear manner. I am enjoying it because I feel that I will be more confident when presenting myself before the judges and also taking the test on the topic. I think the authors are being frank and will continue throughout the book to show how marketing is a vibrant area full of ideas that is a major part of the business world.

Why we read?

Reading is not my greatest hobby. I rather be active through playing sports outside and not straining my eyes by looking at pages filled with long sentences and complex words. Unfortunately for me, it is impossible to avoid reading. Teachers are always assigning textbook pages to read, metaphoric Shakespearean plays to decipher, and short essays to annotate in a one day time period. This just makes my dislike for reading increase. We read because we are forced to. If we don't read we end up with a failing grade on the reading quiz and not understanding what the teacher is talking about the next day. Reading in this manner destroys both our imaginations and creativity. If we were to enjoy reading then it would have to be reading in which we do not get graded and not forced to figure out what it means. True reading is up to our pure imaginations. It is supposed to be enjoyment that a teacher does not have to check up on. Reading is supposed to help us open our imaginations and be more analytical. It is supposed to show us a world unseen. Personally, I don't enjoy both reading for school or for leisure. I rather be out doing and taking action than sitting and taking a breather. Reading is tedious and time consuming. Why read when there is an open world waiting to be explored and so little time to do all?