draft 4

Hamilton Marks, Jr.
Creative Nonfiction
Essay # 4
November 17, 2010

Santa Robbed A Christmas Cheer

The streets were isolated, as the heavy downpour invades the frigid December afternoon. The mood and feeling and of Christmas jingles the air, only indoors, whilst the snow appropriated its timing. Children stray away from their customary ply of making snow-angles and snow-fights but opted to eggnogs and singing along to Christmas carols. The trees and vehicles were cover in snow. The roads were wet and slippery as an effect to the snowing. Newark being a popular and populous city, it became astonishing to see the streets clear with only few automobiles moving here and there. The usual car theft and hustling were halted. The drug dealings and robberies seemed to have been postponed, - or has it?
Minutes before the coming of the snow, I felt urged to spend the Christmas with my friend Matthew. Matthew was the first person I became acquainted with on my first day of high school in America. As Africans, my family way of celebrating Christmas totally contrasted the way American families celebrated. We’d become so uncaring that we do not purchase and exchange gifts. No cards or eggnogs or even a Christmas tree. My parents prefer to feat on a huge goat or foul-chicken and drink the night away to dry gin or herbal roots.
Picking up more of an American way to celebrating the holidays, I found my house dried and boring. Sleep soon invaded the perimeter as full stomachs became feeble to a nap and strong eyes grew weary. The only attention grabber was the 60in Panasonic television that sat by the window in the living room, broadcasting Law and Order: the TNT crime drama. The episode was one I hadn’t seen. However, I needed to be amongst people who enjoyed the festivities of Christmas in an American sense. William my highs school friend and current best friend lived not too far from my house. Thus I thought to give him a ring. Upon his enthusiastically jubilant approval, I headed to his house.
Hanging on the door was a large picture of Jolly ol’ Mr. Cringle and colorful decorated lights of red, blue, green and yellow. I entered the house to the sound of Nat King Cole: “Chestnuts roasting o an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose, Yuletide carols being sung by a choir, And folks dressed up like Eskimos. Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe, help to make the season bright, Tiny tots with their eyes all a-glow, will find it hard to sleep tonight. They know that Santa’s on his way, He’s loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh, And every mother’s child is gonna spy, To see if reindeer really know how to fly. And so im offering this simple phrase, to kids from one to ninety-two, Although it’s been said, many times, many ways, merry Christmas to you. ”
Eggnogs and candy canes were at hand and in sight. A huge, luminous Christmas tree with peak ornaments of Christ the infant and Christ the adult radiate by the window. William two younger sisters, Lisa and Winell continuously sang along to the radio all the carols that played. Their singing must have been stimulated by the sugary rush from the candy canes as they weren’t allowed to consume eggnogs which had been induced with a percentage of alcohol.
“William I need you to get me some stuff from the corner store. Here take this – and be careful” his mother said. Saying he will be back in a flash, he left me in the living room with a plate of macaroni salad and a cocktail. As he told everyone in a surprisingly calm tone; “I just got robbed.” On his way back from the corner store, he encountered a burgundy Oldsmobile that at first slowly passed him. The vehicle came back for the second time, this instance asking for direction. With caution, he stood from a far and announced direction to the required destination. The driver left with what William thought was an intention of getting to their destination.
Surprisingly, the Oldsmobile driver came back for the third time asking for detailed direction to their destination. Haven spoken to him twice but only from a far, William felt comfortable enough to approach the vehicle. His bravery soon became unfortunate. Two guys came out of the Oldsmobile baring arms, asking William to give up any money he had. Unresistingly he obliged, fearing that he might be injured or even killed.
They took his money, watch, and groceries he had purchased for his mother. Ruthless and unsatisfied with what they had taken from him, they violently beat him down to the snow while he laid screaming and crying. After inflicting on him immeasurable amount of pain they ran into the car in order to quickly drive away. As the engine revs, one of the robbers yelled to William, MERRY CHRITSMAS NIGGA then drove off laughing.
As he was telling his family the story, I couldn’t help but reflect on a similar incident that occurred with me. I came from the club at 3 in the morning. Attempting to open my door, a man came from behind me holding a gun. He asked for money which I quickly give him. The he walked away as if nothing transpired.
William story is a testament to what living in a city as disturbed and poverty stricken as Newark has in store. One can fall victim anytime, even on a glorious and tranquil holiday such a Christmas. With the drug and crime rate soaring to towering heights, nothing and no one is untouchable. the city has become a horror zone. The politician are corrupted, the school system is infected and the future seem defected.

However, it is important to always try to obtain the good from any or every bad situation. Thus through it all, we give God the Glory. His will shall be done.

Jingle bells - jingle bells, santa robbed a christmas cheer.

pre-draft essay 4

Hamilton Marks, Jr.
Creative Nonfiction
Essay # 4
November 17, 2010

Santa Robbed A Christmas Cheer

The streets were isolated, as the heavy downpour invades the frigid December afternoon. The mood and feeling and of Christmas jingles the air, only indoors, whilst the snow appropriated its timing. Children stray away from their customary ply of making snow-angles and snow-fights but opted to eggnogs and singing along to Christmas carols. The trees and vehicles were cover in snow. The roads were wet and slippery as an effect to the snowing. Newark being a popular and populous city, it became astonishing to see the streets clear with only few automobiles moving here and there. The usual car theft and hustling were halted. The drug dealings and robberies seemed to have been postponed, - or has it?
Minutes before the coming of the snow, I felt urged to spend the Christmas with my friend Matthew. Matthew was the first person I became acquainted with on my first day of high school in America. As Africans, my family way of celebrating Christmas totally contrasted the way American families celebrated. We’d become so uncaring that we do not purchase and exchange gifts. No cards or eggnogs or even a Christmas tree. My parents prefer to feat on a huge goat or foul-chicken and drink the night away to dry gin or herbal roots.
Picking up more of an American way to celebrating the holidays, I found my house dried and boring. Sleep soon invaded the perimeter as full stomachs became feeble to a nap and strong eyes grew weary. The only attention grabber was the 60in Panasonic television that sat by the window in the living room, broadcasting Law and Order: the TNT crime drama. The episode was one I hadn’t seen. However, I needed to be amongst people who enjoyed the festivities of Christmas in an American sense. William my highs school friend and current best friend lived not too far from my house. Thus I thought to give him a ring. Upon his enthusiastically jubilant approval, I headed to his house.
Hanging on the door was a large picture of Jolly ol’ Mr. Cringle and colorful decorated lights of red, blue, green and yellow. I entered the house to the sound of Nat King Cole: “Chestnuts roasting o an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose, Yuletide carols being sung by a choir, And folks dressed up like Eskimos. Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe, help to make the season bright, Tiny tots with their eyes all a-glow, will find it hard to sleep tonight. They know that Santa’s on his way, He’s loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh, And every mother’s child is gonna spy, To see if reindeer really know how to fly. And so im offering this simple phrase, to kids from one to ninety-two, Although it’s been said, many times, many ways, merry Christmas to you. ”
Eggnogs and candy canes were at hand and in sight. A huge, luminous Christmas tree with peak ornaments of Christ the infant and Christ the adult radiate by the window. William two younger sisters, Lisa and Winell continuously sang along to the radio all the carols that played. Their singing must have been stimulated by the sugary rush from the candy canes as they weren’t allowed to consume eggnogs which had been induced with a percentage of alcohol.
“William I need you to get me some stuff from the corner store. Here take this – and be careful” his mother said. Saying he will be back in a flash, he left me in the living room with a plate of macaroni salad and a cocktail. As he told everyone in a surprisingly calm tone; “I just got robbed.” On his way back from the corner store, he encountered a burgundy Oldsmobile that at first slowly passed him. The vehicle came back for the second time, this instance asking for direction. With caution, he stood from a far and announced direction to the required destination. The driver left with what William thought was an intention of getting to their destination.
Surprisingly, the Oldsmobile driver came back for the third time asking for detailed direction to their destination. Haven spoken to him twice but only from a far, William felt comfortable enough to approach the vehicle. His bravery soon became unfortunate. Two guys came out of the Oldsmobile baring arms, asking William to give up any money he had. Unresistingly he obliged, fearing that he might be injured or even killed.
They took his money, watch, and groceries he had purchased for his mother. Ruthless and unsatisfied with what they had taken from him, they violently beat him down to the snow while he laid screaming and crying. After inflicting on him immeasurable amount of pain they ran into the car in order to quickly drive away. As the engine revs, one of the robbers yelled to William, MERRY CHRITSMAS NIGGA then drove off laughing.
As he was telling his family the story, I couldn’t help but reflect on a similar incident that occurred with me. I came from the club at 3 in the morning. Attempting to open my door, a man came from behind me holding a gun. He asked for money which I quickly give him. The he walked away as if nothing transpired.
William story is a testament to what living in a city as disturbed and poverty stricken as Newark has in store. One can fall victim anytime, even on a glorious and tranquil holiday such a Christmas. With the drug and crime rate soaring to towering heights, nothing and no one is untouchable. However, it is important to always try to obtain the good from any or every bad situation. Thus through it all, we give God the Glory. His will shall be done.

pre-writing esssay 4

intially i was a bit lost attempting to gather constructive ideas for essay 4. i found myself thinking about possible eye/descriptive story that i can narrate. most of what i recollected were I stories rather than EYE stories. i came to a conclusion that i'm more susceptible to grapg personal stories than stories that doesn't focus on me as a central character. It became difficult, an i sought an advice from nashira who told me, "just get a piece of paper and start puting down anything that comes to mind. Forget about if they are connected. looking at what you have writting should and would set platform for or trigger a story of interest or relevence." After doing just that, i was able to come up with...

story/idea-- a story that dealt with a friend of mine getting robbed on christmas. His i went visting to exeperience a good christmas unlike what i usually experience at home. shortly fater i got there, his mother sent him to the store to get some grocery. i was stop by men in a oldsmobile who required direction. while giving the direction, he was robbed and badly beaten.

style-- i used my personal robbery experience to built the story in full, and also express my understanding of the pain he endured and to simply express sympathy.

the beginning of the story is set to a wintery december afternoon in Newark, NJ. I included what living in Newark amounts to and how christmas is celebrated.

essay # 3

Hamilton Marks, Jr.
Creative Nonfiction
Essay 3
October 29, 2010

Jerry Springer


I’ve long enjoyed the chaotic and demoralized dynamics of Jerry Springer, the television show that airs on channel eleven (11) at 11:00am. The ideas of infidelity, fornication and brute physical bouts magnets my attention. Though a shy character in the public eye, the reverse might portray me similar to entities conveyed on Jerry Springer. A psychologist might say the talk show warrants my inhibition in an outlet which is Jerry Springer, and set room for personal identification, hence my reticent personality suppresses my exhibition. Ten (10) years in the rough, violent city that is Newark has giving me liking to things I normally would shy from. I’ve had many intense arguments, and fists fights; some because of women and some due to gang confrontation or misidentification. Through careful consideration, one might say some aspects of my life exemplify the talk show.

I vividly recalled an episode that that centered on women promiscuity, infidelity and outrage. The producers titled it, Jerry Springer’s – Girls Gone Wild. Personally, I thought the title was condescending and unflattering. They are all women, why call them girls? I believe our behaviors as adults are tantamount to the respect and dignity we receive. To cut long story short, the end of the show presented frustrated, agonized and rebellious women who should instead represent womanhood, motherhood and intelligence. They had all been fighting over men who obviously did not care for them. Pardon me, but I see this as good material for writing, only for the sense of drama. However, why do women give in to men and loose themselves. I was once told “its better to loose a lover then love a looser.”

The shrill and irritating buzzing of my Toshiba alarm clock woke me up at 3:30am in the morning in order to prepare for work. I heard a distinct noise that obstructed my morning ritual of tooth brushing, showering and a glass of cold grapefruit juice. Still experiencing the effect of just waking up, I slowly walked toward the window, yarning and wiping my eyes. I pulled the curtain left, to the side and saw a view unlike no other. Directly across the street in front of the newly constructed house were a group of young women between the ages of 19-27. I estimated about fifteen, all involved in fierce arguments and fists fight.

I ignored the chaos outside my window and ran into the bathroom to prepare for work. Within twenty (20) minutes, I was ready to go to work with almost thirty (30) minutes to spare. Looking back on that day, I assumed it was my interest in the ruckus outside that encouraged me to hasten my preparation for work. With time to spare, I went back to the window and this time cracked it open. I could clearly see and hear what was going on. Amongst the crowd of women I recognized three of the ladies who live across the street in the new house. The few whom I recognized as resident from the new building were partially nude; wearing only panties and bras. As I sat by the window in my bedroom, looking at the scene, I could see, wigs coming out as fists being swung, legs rose in attempt to kick, handbags threw and etc. Honestly these girls around here fight like men. There was one that could throw a fist as good as Mike Tyson. Whomever she attacked seemed to retreat in fear and in a hurry as she was just too fierce.

While this was going on, the boyfriend of one of the nude girls of the three, whom I have befriended sat on the hood of his car as his girlfriend and sister-in-law wrestle and tussle in the middle of the street. He sat there enjoying the spectacle with a smoke in his mouth showing little interest in stopping the fight and vast interest in finding pleasure from it. I must admit, men love to watch women fight, hoping to see a bit of or total nudity. When one of the girls breast was revealed during the fight, I look back at my girlfriend who was sound to sleep. Then I checked the time on the Toshiba alarm clock and drank a bit of my grapefruit juice. It was time for me to leave for work as I took my bag pack and airport id before heading out of the house.

Outside, in front of the house, before taking my last step off the porch, the police siren alerted the troublesome crowd that quickly disbursed. Still on the scene, I was stopped and questioned by the police about my knowledge and involvement in the incident. I first identified myself before telling them that I was simply on my way to work with my airport id at hand.

There are episode of Jerry Springer that arises on occasions in our lives. Depending on whom we are, the incident can escalate to something harsh or otherwise. Recently, my mother and my girlfriend got into a heated argument whilst I was out running errands with my friend. There has been a building tension between my mother and my girlfriend for the past year. My girlfriend sees my mother as overly nurturing, whilst my mother claims my girlfriend has no respect for me and doesn’t treat me properly. To cut long story short, names were called as impulses went high over dear Hamilton. Honestly, it rips a man apart to know that his mother and his girlfriend don’t get alone. Who do you side with and what do you say?

We all have experienced our own Jerry Springer. It is that argument you have had with someone that annoyed or wronged you. It is your first or tenth fight with a friend or an enemy. It is that moment that you look back on saying, wow I can’t believe I did that. Well you can definitely count me in regard those moments. I’ve lived and seen a few, baring scares and memories as evidence. Ladies and gentlemen: Jerry Springer.

brainstorming - essay #3

I've decided to have a correlation of stories. the first one will introduce the main story or idea. the second story, which is the middle story will be what the essay is centered on. the third and last piece will support and conclude the essay.

for the central idea to the essay, i chose to look at a scene which i saw peeking through my bedroom window. it was a group of about fifteen young ladies involved in a fierce brawl because of a man.

I related this story to the television talk show, Jerry Springer. if you have seen Jerry Springer, you will know that it has nothing to do with solving problems as some talk shows do. instead, it showcases, infidelity, promiscuity, and brute physical strength such as my main story (the girl fight).

some themes that will be prevalent are; love, respect for oneself, and how media wants to look at women in contrast to how reality portrays women.

this essay set home, close to my heart. recently my mother and my girlfriend got into a heated argument on the account of me. i was put in a situation were i had to pick between my mother and my girlfriend. i hint a piece of this drama in the essay, as means to identify with those who has went through a so called "Jerry Springer".