Podcast appearances and mentions of harlem river

This is the 4 P.M. All Local update for July 26.

Michael Wallace has the top stories from the WCBS newsroom.

Visits to the Consul's OfficeIn 7 parts, based on the posts by senorlongo. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novel. I used my shortwave radio for several things. Primarily I used it for entertainment—listening to music or news, or to check on the approaching weather. Twice I learned in advance of severe storms and we were able to take steps to protect our livestock. The other use was to communicate with people, either to order supplies, or to check on investments or legal matters. So it was during a regular check with my attorney and financial manager that I learned I had to return to the States. My uncle David, for whom I was named, had passed away, naming me as his primary heir. Great—now the rift with my mother would grow even wider. Uncle David was her brother and he had left her out of his will, no doubt because of her treatment of him, my father, and every other male in our families. She'd never see it that way, of course. It would be all his fault—or mine—but never hers. That was her biggest problem—nothing was ever her fault. She was always the victim, but only in her eyes. Everyone else always saw the problem for what it was; she was a domineering bitch who was clearly far superior to everyone else. Well, she had driven away my father and Scott and me, as well, with her constant nagging and bickering. Now it was about to get even worse, but only if I would let it. I was safe from her in Hosi's valley.I had to see to the disposition of the funds, and, of course, there were several papers I had to sign and the mails in South America weren't to be trusted. That wouldn't be a problem—I still had a valid passport. The problem would be what to do about Hosi.Living in the wilderness had its advantages, but the question would be how to prove that Hosi was a Brazilian citizen for a passport. I took her downriver to the nearest government office. Of course, we encountered the same bureaucratic bullshit that exists in every government. “May I see her birth certificate?” That's what the idiot asked after I had explained five times that we lived in an area of the jungle where there was no governmental control, something that existed in almost eighty percent of the Amazonian jungle. I explained again that we lived more than a hundred miles west of the nearest settlement, so how was Hosi supposed to get a birth certificate. I'd bet that few, if any of the tribes that lived in the jungle ever heard of a birth certificate, or the Brazilian government, for that matter.Tired of getting nowhere with this jerk, I headed for the American consulate. I was stopped by the Marines at the gate, but showed my passport and was granted admission. I was amazed when I walked into the office to find a picture of my old friend John Spillane on the wall. I was told he had been appointed Secretary of State by the new President. “Do you know him,” I asked.“Of course not, you can't expect the Secretary to know all of the thousands of department employees,” was the reply.“Well, I used to be a close personal friend when I worked for him at Al-Cor. Can you get a message to him—fax or email—and ask him if he would take a phone call with Dr. David Schneider?”“I can send a message, but I doubt he'll reply. Where can I reach you if he agrees?” I told the Consul where we were staying and thanked him. I received a message later that evening telling me to be back at the Consulate at 3:00 the following afternoon for a video phone call.We walked in to the Consul's office at 2:50 and were shown to the video room. I sat in front of the computer, Hosi at my side, and waited for the call to begin. “Hi, David what are you doing in Brazil?”I greeted my old friend and congratulated him on his appointment. I reminded him of my story when Mike Sullivan had died. I told him that I had met Hosi while I was wandering around the jungle and fallen in love with her. I had her join me so John could see her, too, as I explained my problem. “Could you intercede with the Brazilian authorities on our behalf,” I asked. John agreed to try and said he would get back to us in two days. I thanked him and rung off. Hosi and I returned to our hotel.“I don't understand what the problem is, David.” Hosi said.“In order to travel to my country you will need a passport.” I showed her mine. “It's a document that proves you are a Brazilian citizen. The valley where we live is in the country of Brazil. We will also need passports to return home again. It is complicated, Hosi, but that's what we will need. I hope you can get one because I will be away for several weeks and I will want you with me.”“Why is everything in your world so complicated, David?”“I don't know, Hosi. I suppose a lot of it has to do with terrorism.” I spent almost a half hour explaining about 9/11 and other examples of terrorism throughout the so-called civilized world. I could see Hosi thinking. After a few minutes she spoke, “That doesn't make any sense, David. Why would anyone think that would work?”“It never has worked, but that hasn't stopped some people from spreading their hatred throughout the world. Just getting onto an airplane has become incredibly difficult with hundreds of regulations. On some flights we could be required to go through security two or even three times.” I explained as much as I could about airport security.“All I know, David it that I feel secure in your arms. Will you put your penis into my mouth and my vagina?” She reached to remove my shirt and shorts. I knew there was something else I didn't like about civilization when I realized how much clothing I had to remove from Hosi's body. We had just fallen onto the bed when the phone rang. It was the American Consul asking if we could come to his office tomorrow morning at ten. I agreed, thanked him, and hung the phone onto its cradle. I returned to Hosi. We kissed tenderly as we did every day, but this time she pushed me onto my back and reversed into a “69.” Slowly, she took me into her mouth as I laid siege to her pussy with my tongue. Together we licked and sucked each other, our breathing becoming more rapid and ragged as we progressed. Hosi began to shudder as I massaged her G-spot with my tongue and shook wildly when I pinched her clit between my fingers.I gave her a few minutes to recover before turning her around to face and kiss me while I buried my cock deep into her. I thrust up strongly, bringing the two of us to mutual orgasms. I held her tightly as my cock erupted repeatedly into her womb. I pulled her to me, kissing her wildly as we recovered. We rested most of the afternoon, went out for dinner and returned to the hotel again for the evening.This was a much bigger and more modern hotel than our first one together so when I turned on the TV the screen went to a menu. Hosi asked me what all those choices meant. I knew I was in for a problem when I saw the word “Adult” on the screen. I had to explain to Hosi that these were movies about sex. That got her attention and she wanted to see one even though I told her several times that few of them were very good.I picked one that I thought had the most reasonable plot, confirmed the payment and sat back with Hosi to watch. Her first observation was that, “These women have very large breasts.” I laughed as I told her, “They're not real. A doctor like Dennis can make them bigger. Some men think bigger is always better.” Hosi looked at me as though I was crazy, but turned her attention back to the screen. An hour later the movie ended and I could see that Hosi was thinking. “David, didn't you tell Queen Aleppa that sex was usually done in private? Then why do these people do it when so many others can see?” I explained that the sex wasn't really between people who loved each other; they were actors—people playing a role. She shook her head, “David, I don't think I will ever understand your world.” I agreed with her, pulled her to me, kissed her tenderly, spooned with her and went to sleep.We walked together the following morning into the Consul's office. “Thank you for coming so promptly, Dr. Schneider. Would you please step over here?” He pointed to a portable projection screen where I noticed a photographer standing. I stood in front for a portrait and then positioned Hosi. The photographer thanked us and left.“May I ask what's going on, sir?”“Yes, of course, you and Mrs. Schneider are getting new passports—diplomatic passports ordered by Secretary Spillane. I have a communiqué for you. I'm sorry, but I must have it returned once you've read it.” I took the sealed envelope from his hand, opened it and led Hosi to a nearby couch. We read the letter together. I thought for a few minutes and reread it before returning it to the Consul who shredded it into the smallest pieces I had ever seen.“When will our passports be ready,” I asked.“In about twenty minutes. Secretary Spillane obviously wants you back in the States. You'll be flying business class on a plane this afternoon courtesy of the State Department. It's a non-stop directly into Dulles. A limo will meet you there and take you straight to his office. After your meeting you will be free to deal with your other business—sorry to learn of your uncle's passing.”Someone had been really busy—I had never mentioned my uncle to anyone outside the valley, but I wasn't about to turn down free tickets and I was eager to see my old friend John. We left with our passports and tickets in hand. We returned to our hotel to collect our meager belongings. I phoned the marina, telling Kevin we were on our way home and bought a small suitcase and some toiletries. We checked out and took a cab to the airport.I led Hosi through the maze that modern airports have become. We went through security, although our diplomatic passports greased the way for us. We were led to a special lounge where we ate and relaxed prior to the flight. I could see that Hosi was nervous, “Are you sure this huge thing can actually fly?” I reassured her and held her hand all the way on to the plane. I helped her with her seatbelt and kissed her cheek. I helped her with the complimentary headphones; watching her face when she first heard the music was priceless.We ate the mediocre food and slept most of the way; nine hours later we landed at Dulles, just outside Washington in rural Virginia. We breezed right through Immigration and Customs with our diplomatic credentials, meeting our driver just outside baggage claim. Half an hour later we walked hand in hand into the Department of State. We were obviously expected; we went right to the head of the line at security and were led directly into John Spillane's office. John rose to greet us as I introduced him to Hosi who was clearly awestruck by the entire experience.“Thanks for coming on such short notice, David. I can see from one look at your bride why you live in Brazil. You are truly beautiful, Hosi. That's an interesting name. Does it mean anything?”“Yes, sir,” Hosi replied, “brave warrior.”“Wow, that's an unusual name for a woman—brave warrior, eh? OK, David, I'm sure you are wondering what's going on.”“Yes, sir I never thought we'd both get U.S. passports and especially not diplomatic ones. You obviously have something in mind for us.”“Actually, it has to do with your uncle's will. We believe he has in his possession some papers that unfriendly nations would like to have. Your government would prefer to see them destroyed—burned or at least shredded.” He then went into detail about the papers which he thought would be in my uncle's safe.I knew my uncle was a naval architect and that he sometimes worked for the government. What he had were copies of top secret plans for a new submarine. He had been working on them at home when he died. John was pretty sure they were in his safe. As his heir I would receive the key from his attorney when the will was read. That would be two days from today just outside Groton, Connecticut home of the Electric Boat Company which was a division of General Dynamics, a huge contractor for the Department of Defense. Unfortunately, the reading of the will would bring Hosi and me into direct contact with my mother.I thanked John for all of his help and promised we would do what he wanted. Before we left John told me there might be some danger involved. I just laughed and told him I'd be safe with my brave warrior at my side. I doubted he realized just how dangerous Hosi could be.We took our limo to a nearby hotel, checked in, and took a nap. OK, it wasn't really a nap. We lay on the bed until Hosi said she wanted to try some of the things we had seen in the movie we rented our last night in Brazil. When I asked her which things she climbed up onto all fours, positioned herself at the edge of the bed and pointed to her pussy. I got up and stood behind her. I rubbed my cock into her slit—she was as wet as I was hard. I leaned forward and pushed easily into her tight cunt. I leaned forward as I rocked into her so I could massage her breasts and nipples with one hand while I found and rubbed her clit with the other. I massaged and rubbed and fucked and kissed her neck and back. It wasn't long before she surrendered to my assault, and good thing, too because I was getting really close. The friction within her cunt was more than I could bear. I pulled back and pushed my hips forward, driving deeply within her as I erupted, soaking her pussy with my hot white cream. We fell forward together laughing and kissing, “Welcome to the U.S. of A,” I whispered as I nuzzled her ear.“I think I'm going to like it here if every day is going to be like this one.”“Careful…you haven't met my mother yet.”“Oh, David she can't be that bad.”“Hosi…both of her children moved to live with you and neither of us bothered to tell her we were going. Does that tell you anything? My mother is an emasculating bitch. She hates men so, of course, she had two sons. She drove our father to an early grave with her constant nagging and complaining and she tortured both Scott and me when we were kids. No, it wasn't physical abuse, but she went out of her way every single day to criticize and belittle us. I doubt she ever told either of us that she loved us. Now she'll accuse me of twisting her brother against her even though we were more than two thousand miles away for more than a year. I'm glad I have you to protect me.” Hosi laughed, totally unaware that I was totally serious.We flew the next morning to Islip MacArthur Airport in Islip, Long Island. I rented a car and drove east on Route 25A toward Orient Point. From there we took a car ferry across Long Island Sound to Mystic, Connecticut right across the river from Groton and the Electric Boat Company where my uncle had worked for so many years. We saw several nuclear subs at the company's docks. I drove off the ferry and we looked for another motel. Once we found one we drove up to Foxwoods, the world's largest casino. I took Hosi with me to play blackjack. For a person who had never even seen a deck of cards before she was a remarkably quick study. We quit four hours later just about even which I explained to her was an accomplishment. We went to one of their finer restaurants, The Cedars Steak House, where I treated Hosi to a sumptuous meal. Hosi would never get used to being waited on, no matter how often I took her out to eat. Even in Brazil in the tiny backwater towns Hosi would sit wide-eyed as a waiter or waitress brought our food or cleared the table. Now, in an exclusive restaurant Hosi marveled at the number of people waiting on us. She marveled even more at the food. We ate little meat in our valley, relying on lamb and goat on those occasions when we didn't eat fish or some combination of fruits and vegetables.We returned to our hotel sleepy from all the food, but apparently not sleepy enough to discourage Hosi from fucking me. She turned on the TV, choosing again the “Adult” menu. I have to say this for Hosi—she was a fast learner. She could maneuver her way around these menus as well as if not better than I could. She picked one and nestled into my arms. She knew all about “69,” but now she was amazed to see one of the actors fucking the woman's ass. She turned to me, “David, have you ever done that? I would think that would be painful.”“Yes, Hosi I have done it and it can be painful—very painful. It can feel good—really good-- too, if it is done right. I'll explain the whole thing to you sometime, but not now—I'm too tired.” I really wanted to go to sleep but Hosi was into the movie, getting ideas to try on me. We turned off the set an hour later and assumed our normal position—spooning with my hand on her breast.I awoke the following morning not to a bright sunlight, but to a hot wet mouth around my cock. I peeked under the blanket and Hosi peeked back sheepishly, “I saw this in the…what is the word I want, David?”“Movie?”“Yes, that's it and I thought I would try it on you. Do you enjoy it?”“Hosi, I always enjoy your mouth on my penis, but you should know that those movies are not real. Hardly any of those things happen in real life.”“I know that, David. I remember that you explained all that to me, but I still want to do it.”“OK, but don't I get a chance to do you?” She grinned ear to ear and pivoted around. I inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of the pussy I loved so well. I had heard that all women taste and smell differently, but I wouldn't know. I had only gone down on a handful of women before Hosi and I doubted I'd do any more, but I did know that I loved the smell and taste of her. I reached up to lick her just as Hosi swallowed my cock—she'd gotten awfully good in an awfully short time. I covered her delicious pussy with my mouth and sucked mightily. That got a huge reaction from Hosi as she gasped loudly. She fucked my cock with her mouth and I fucked her with my tongue. She'd had a head start on me and we hadn't fucked last night so I wasn't lasting very long. I moved my mouth to her clit as my fingers sought her G-spot. I knew she was close when she began to shake. Her body exploded in a massive spasm just as I bathed her tonsils with my cum. She rolled up to me, cum dripping from the corner of her mouth. She scooped it with her finger, licked it clean and kissed me as we swapped each other's fluids. I would have loved to stay in bed with her, but we had an appointment we had to keep. I pulled her to the shower.We ate a quick breakfast, but not at the motel—I always hated the so-called free breakfasts. We found a family restaurant where we enjoyed waffles and bacon with some orange juice. I used to be a big coffee drinker, but not in the valley where we mostly drank either water or some kind of fruit juice—we had ten different varieties. We arrived at the lawyer's office about ten minutes early. Of course, my mother was already there. I walked in holding Hosi's hand.“I knew you'd show up for this, David. You've always had your eyes on your uncle's money.”“Nice to see you, too, Mother. And for your information I haven't even spoken to my uncle for more than four years.”“I'm sure that's a lie you greedy bastard.”I almost laughed. If anyone was greedy it was her. “Believe what you want, Mother. Yesterday was the first time I've even been in the States for more than two years. We don't even have any phones where we live. When I say we I'm referring to me, my wife Hosi, your son Scott who also left without saying good-bye to you, and your nephew Kevin.”“Hoe…see? What the hell kind of name is that?”“It means ‘brave warrior' in her tribe's language and, believe me, she is. I've seen her put down two bruisers in less than a minute. Oh, by the way, not that I think you even care, but you're a grandmother. It's a girl named Kela. She's fifteen months old now. It hardly matters, though—you'll never see her, thank God. Now, let's get this over with shall we?”“Good idea, I'm John Keller, your uncle's attorney. Rather than read the entire will I'll summarize. That will save a lot of time—there's a load of legalese in here. Mrs. Schneider, your brother left you $10,000 with the instruction that I read the following passage verbatim: “Stella, you have been a Grade A bitch your entire life. You made your poor husband's life a living hell and mine wasn't much better. You tortured me when I was a child, but fortunately I was able to escape as an adult. If anything good comes from my death it's that you and I will be in different places for eternity.”“David, you inherit the remainder of the estate which I'll explain to you after I give this check to your mother.” He handed the check to my disgusted mother who rose and stomped out giving me yet another dirty and disgusted look.“I'd be careful of her if I were you, David. She strikes me as a vengeful person.”“She is, believe me. She has alienated virtually everyone who has ever known her. What my father ever saw in her is a mystery to me. Now can we go over the details?”“Of course…essentially he left you investments amounting to just over 4.5 million dollars and his house and boat.”“I'll want to see the house. I understand you have the key to his safe?”“Yes, you do realize that anything of value will have to be declared.”“Sure, if I find anything I'll bring it back here for you to handle. I'll want to sell the house and boat. You can give the proceeds to my mother, not that she deserves them. I'll never see her again and I doubt that I'll even attend her funeral. All the same, I'm not a vindictive person. Prepare whatever documents are required. However, I do not want her to get the house. She lives in a filthy broken-down apartment building; she can stay there.” I took the key, got directions and we walked out the door. I was just about to ask Hosi what she thought about my mother when she pushed me aside. Hosi rushed forward to meet my cursing club wielding mother as she rushed up the walk. Hosi grabbed her wrist and held her immobile while I got up from the ground. I walked back in and asked Mr. Keller to call the police. Hosi held my mother in such a way that she was unable to move or even drop the weapon until they came. She was charged with attempted murder and assault with a dangerous weapon. When we were asked for identification we showed the officer our passports so she was also charged with terroristic attack on a government official. That meant the FBI would be involved. By the time they straightened this out we'd be back in the valley. Meanwhile, Mom could sit in a cozy jail cell and stew.We found the house without much trouble; Hosi had a fantastic sense of direction. I walked in and shut off the alarm exactly as Keller had said. Hosi and I walked to my uncle's office and looked for the safe. Of course, she had no idea what we were looking for until I explained. Then she found it under the rug. I opened it and found the papers. We walked to the rear patio where I recalled my uncle had a gas grill. I removed the cooking surface and started the fire. I separated the papers and lowered them to the blazing grill; they caught immediately and were soon ablaze. We rested easier once they were a pile of ashes.Returning to the office we noticed there was also about $250 in cash and some old coins. I collected them in a grocery bag, closed the safe and drove back to Keller's office. I gave him the coins and told him to note the cash which I would keep. I told him to send my dear mother a letter stating that I had intended to give her the proceeds from the boat and house, but now she'd get nothing. I shook his hand after giving him the name of my investment manager and my bank info. He looked at it and asked, “Where is this bank?”“Just like it says there—Brazil; the main branch is in Recife, but ours is in some backwater little town you've never heard of about eight hundred miles up the Amazon.” Once again we left his office, but this time it was a peaceful departure. I drove back to Mystic, calling John Spillane's private number, telling him our mission was accomplished. We took the ferry back to Long Island and ninety minutes later we were back at the airport where I returned the car. We caught a cab to the Ronkonkoma Station where we rode a train into Penn Station in the middle of New York City. I was quiet during most of the ride as Hosi looked out the window. She turned to me suddenly, “Do you miss all this, David? It's so different from our valley.”“Hosi, there are a lot of great things here, but there are just as many bad.” I explained to her about crime, pollution, prejudice, traffic, poverty, drugs, terrorism, and as many other issues as I could think of. “We don't have any of that at home. We have clean air, clean water, no crime, no jealousy, and everyone works together. Plus, there is one other minor thing—you. We have all those wonderful things, but I'd live in the worst place on earth if I could be with you.” Hosi beamed, leaned across the seat and kissed me—warmly, passionately, and loaded with her love.We walked up from the station, emerging onto West 31st Street where we caught a cab to the Plaza Hotel at 5th Avenue and Central Park South. Hosi was never afraid, but she was certainly a little overwhelmed, primarily by all the people and, secondly by all the hustle and bustle of the city. I had wanted to treat Hosi to some of the wonders of Manhattan where I had lived for several years. We were escorted to our room by a bellman and, of course, he had his hand out for a tip even though we only had one small duffel. Hosi took a look out the window and asked me, “What's that, David? It looks like the jungle.”“It should be Central Park. It's a big area of woods and grassy areas in the middle of the city, but it can be a jungle at night. There's a lot of crime there—muggings—basically robberies by groups of men. Sometimes they're kids, but they can be just as dangerous. There are lots of police on patrol, but it's a big place.”“I think we should go for a walk after dinner.” I knew I should have chosen another hotel. Hosi loved a challenge. Hopefully, she wouldn't find one. We ate in one of the Plaza's restaurants, returning to our room around nine. I took a leak and put all my valuables into the room safe. When Hosi returned from the bathroom we went down for our walk. I noticed she had changed her clothes; she was wearing her tribal skirt and thong along with her familiar warrior's sandals. “Oh, shit,” I thought, “she is really hoping for trouble.” I just hoped they wouldn't have guns.We entered the park at its southern entrance and walked slowly up one of the many paved paths, holding hands and kissing occasionally. We walked for almost a mile, noticing several other couples also out for a walk. We kept to well-lit areas and saw several bike riding cops along our route. We decided to turn back and that's when I saw the four kids. I'll say kids, but they looked to be about twenty. They had been following us for who knows how long. “OK, Hosi here's your chance. These four guys look like trouble.”“Hey, man—give us your money and we won't hurt you or your woman.” It was the leader, a dark haired kid in those baggy pants I had seen a lot of hip-hop black kids wear in the past.“Oh, guys trust me; you definitely don't want to do this. You're going to be sorry you ever thought of it. You're in for a big and nasty surprise, besides we don't have any money with us.”“Yeah, well too fuckin' bad,” he replied as they stalked closer. He grinned as he continued, “You can see how we're shakin' we're so afraid. I guess that means we gotta cut you. Next time you'll know enough to bring money, right guys?” They laughed as they spread out about ten feet from end to end and moved in for what they thought would be the kill. Hosi pulled me behind her as she scanned the four. She almost laughed as she jumped four feet into the air. She kicked out with both feet, contacting the two center guys in the sternum before landing easily on her feet. Of course, if you asked Hosi she would never know the technical name for this body part, but she would be able to describe exactly what the impact of her hardened heels would cause.The two fell stunned by what had happened. They could barely breathe let alone move. Hopefully, they'd only have bruised ribs. They'd been taken out in less than a second. The other two didn't even have an opportunity to react. Now Hosi checked on the two outside thugs. Both had pulled knives, but the one on the right looked nervous—unsure of himself. Hosi turned to the left. He swung the knife in a vicious arc, narrowly missing Hosi's abdomen. I was sure he thought he was quick, but next to my wife he was more tortoise than hare. She grabbed his wrist and elbow as soon as the knife was past. She pushed the elbow and pulled the wrist; I could hear a horrendous crack. When Hosi released him his arm hung useless, broken just below the joint.Hosi turned to the nervous one, calling him to her with a waggle of her finger. He threw the knife to the ground and sprinted away. Hosi could have caught him easily, but I took her arm and turned her back toward the hotel. I put my arm around her and kissed her cheek. She giggled, “I told you it wasn't dangerous here in the jungle. Those boys were nothing compared to a jaguar.”“Yeah, but I killed the jaguar.”“No, darling…you killed the last jaguar.” I stood there dumbfounded until she whispered into my ear, promising me something special once we returned to our room. We made love so many times that night I couldn't count, riding me furiously every time, but, of course Hosi was up at the crack of dawn full of energy and vigor. She dragged me from bed and into the shower. She giggled as she washed me and rubbed my cock and balls. My poor organ was so exhausted it didn't even respond despite her best efforts. We had a quick breakfast and headed to Pier 83 at West 42nd Street and 12th Avenue. I bought tickets for the complete three-hour tour on the Circle Line. We sat on the upper deck in our sweatshirts with an unobstructed view. We could see all the way across the Hudson. I pointed out the Palisades on the Jersey shore across the wide river. It was only a few minutes before the ship pulled out and headed down the river. We took in the scenery as we listened to the commentary over the PA system. A tear came to her eye when we passed Ground Zero, the former site of the World Trade Center. Hosi couldn't understand how people could be so callous as to kill so many innocents.Hosi marveled at the Statue of Liberty and listened closely to the commentary here. Eventually we turned north into the East River where we could see the South Street Seaport and the Chrysler building. We passed Randall's Island and turned into the Harlem River before reentering the Hudson at Spuyten Duyvil, a deep gorge famous for its torturous currents. It hardly seemed that three hours had passed when we pulled back into the pier.We walked along 42nd while I told Hosi of the famous show and movie of the same name. We were accustomed to walking long distances so the thirteen block trek to the Empire State Building was nothing. I paid the fee and we rode the elevator to the observation deck. Hosi couldn't believe how big the city was, especially compared to the tiny cities we knew along the Amazon.We walked to the nearest Subway station where I bought tokens and we walked to the platform southbound. “Are we under the ground here? Is this safe?” Hosi asked.“It usually is,” I replied, “but sometimes there are thugs who try to rob people. It will be safe now; most of that stuff only happens late at night, and—no—we're not coming back here to find out. You'll have to take my word for it.” I laughed at her disappointment—we got off at Chinatown where we went for an enjoyable lunch.Lunch was enjoyable for several reasons. First, the food was great. Second, we both laughed crazily at Hosi's attempts to use chop sticks. At one point she asked if people actually use these horrible things. When I explained how many people live in China she thought I was making it up. I asked our waiter, an old acquaintance of mine from many visits when I had lived in Manhattan. We spent the afternoon walking around the South Street Seaport and Battery Park before taking another subway north and back to our hotel.We showered together—we always bathe together back in the valley—even though it was a tight fit. That worked out well for me as Hosi's delectable breasts pressed into me the entire time. Of course, my hard cock pressed into her. She laughed the first time she looked down, “I don't know who's enjoying this more. Let's finish up so I can take advantage of you. Do they have any of those adult movies here?” I cringed inwardly—if Hosi learned any more things to try on me I'd be lucky to make it back to the valley in one piece. We enjoyed a nice quickie as Hosi jumped me, pushed me back onto the bed and mounted me. Her face was one of utter contentment as she slid down onto my cock. I would have enjoyed a long nap, but I got us up around 6:30 so we could catch a cab down to Little Italy. I had made reservations at Angelo's on Mulberry Street. There were plenty of restaurants in Little Italy, now reduced to a bit more than two blocks due to encroachment from Chinatown. Most of those places were nothing more than tourist traps—second class food at first class prices—but Angelo's was truly a gem. I ordered the lamb shank and asagna for Hosi as I explained about Italian food. Few people realize that Italian was the basis for almost all other types of cooking, including French. We enjoyed a delicious salad along with a hearty Chianti Classico. I teased Hosi saying, “This is how wine should be made.” I was surprised when she agreed. Our entrees were fantastic—Hosi loved the lasagna, but when I gave her a taste of my lamb she wanted to switch. Not a problem; I loved Angelo's lasagna. We left around 9:30, catching another cab uptown.The following morning we stopped by Al-Cor, hoping to see some of my old friends. I ran into Harry Hanson in the lobby. He couldn't believe it was me, especially when I introduced him to my wife. He took one look at Hosi and shook his head, “How did an ugly coot like you ever marry someone as beautiful as her,” he asked. Hosi took a step forward before I had a chance to answer, but I convinced her that he was only kidding. Harry rounded up a few more buddies and we met for a brief reunion in one of the conference rooms; there were five of them plus Hosi and me.“How's everything with you guys,” I asked. I was surprised when the response was five frowns and looks of disgust. “What's the problem?”It was Steve Frazier who answered. He was the senior employee. “The new CEO is an asshole…oh, sorry Hosi. He is a complete idiot. He's going to take the company down and us with it. I'd do anything to get out.” The others agreed. I had an idea; I gave Hosi a look and she must have been thinking along the same lines. She nodded and smiled so I continued, ”If I remember correctly all you guys are single, right?” They nodded and a few said, “Yeah, why?”“Come to dinner with us tonight and I'll explain—The Plaza, suite 912 around six, OK? Good, we'll see you then.” We left to continue our sightseeing. We went back uptown, taking the subway again toward the Bronx where I took Hosi to the zoo. We walked slowly along the paths. Hosi did a double-take when she saw the size of the lions, but almost fainted when she saw the size of the tigers. I explained that they lived in Africa and Asia respectively, so we only had to deal with the jaguars which were bad enough. We laughed through the 4-D program with Dora and Diego. She laughed at the penguins and marveled at the giraffes and elephants. All too soon it was time to leave. I wanted to plan our meeting with my friends. We would start with drinks while I explained how Hosi and I had met. Hosi suggested she appear in her traditional tribal attire and when I looked down she said, “You did tell me that most men would kill to be able to play with these blobs of fat, didn't you? Well, I won't let them play, but I will let them see what's in store for them.” I had to agree it would be a big inducement.They were late, but I expected that—traffic of every kind is a bitch in the city at all times, but especially during rush hour. I heard a knock at the door at 6:20; Hosi slipped off to the bathroom to wait until she was called. I had bought several bottles—gin, vodka, rye, and scotch—and some mixers and offered everyone a drink. We sat around in the living room of the suite and I began,” The story you've heard about my last time in the jungle wasn't exactly true.” I explained what had occurred up to when we were captured.“What do you mean captured?”“We were captured by a group of…now don't laugh…Amazons...a tribe of warrior women. Hosi is one of them. C'mon in, Hosi.” She walked into the room resplendent in her skirt, sandals, and bracelet. Her breasts were standing proudly. The men's mouths were agape—wide open—as were their eyes. I continued, “There were about twenty of them all armed with bows and arrows and spears. They tied us up, but had peaceful intentions. They fed us and gave us some fruit juice. They paraded us all around the jungle to confuse us and eventually took us into a hidden valley. Care to guess why they wanted us?”“Obviously not to eat you,” Sean O'Reilly commented.“No, but I have been eaten a few times,” I joked, “…they wanted us to breed. So far I've had to fuck around sixty women, all looking much like Hosi—beautiful, tall, in great shape, with fantastic bodies. I had to return to get rid of the micro-transmitter, but I went right back to be with her. My brother is there with my cousin and my best friend who is a doctor. Right now there are roughly 100 pregnant women and next year they want another 100, and the next year and the next. I have Hosi; my brother has Reta; my friend Dennis has two, but my cousin Kevin plays the field. He's even impregnated the queen. So here's the offer….”We wound up talking most of the night, eventually ordering a couple of pizzas from a local restaurant. It was Hosi's first pizza and she approved wholeheartedly, asking if this was italian. The guys obviously approved of Hosi—they all signed up to join us. I told them to fly to Recife when they could and we'd pick them up for the trip up river. We made arrangements to contact each other by shortwave, agreeing on a time and frequency for our discussions.The following morning Hosi and I flew back to Washington where we met again with John Spillane. He asked about the plans even though we had already advised him that they were destroyed. He wanted to know how many sheets there had been and their sizes. Finally, he breathed freely, convinced we had done the job. He asked us to return the diplomatic passports to the consulate. We readily agreed; we saw no immediate need to leave the valley or the Amazon ever again. The following morning we flew back to Brazil, eager to see and hold our daughter. On the way I commented to Hosi, “Not bad…we did the country a great service and we're bringing back another five future residents.”“For a scientist, David you're not very observant. We're bringing back six new residents. I'm pregnant again.” I looked into those beautiful pale green eyes and told her how much I loved her. I really did—I was the luckiest man in the world.“For a scientist, David you're not very observant. We're bringing back six new residents. I'm pregnant again!” I looked into those beautiful pale green eyes and told her how much I loved her. I really did—I was the luckiest man in the world.I kissed her then leaned back as we took off, soaring into the sky. I reclined my seat as I told Hosi I needed sleep. “Somebody keeps me awake all night,” I kidded. She blew a kiss and I fell asleep. I was suddenly awakened by Hosi squeezing in to the seat with me. We were there maybe fifteen minutes when the flight attendant told us we had to have our seatbelts fastened—turbulent weather ahead. I unlatched my belt, ran it around Hosi and pulled it tight to refasten it. Hosi squeezed even closer into me. I looked up at her—words were unnecessary. I put my arm around her…laid her head on my shoulder and we fell asleep again. Unfortunately, I couldn't caress Hosi's breast. I couldn't wait for some privacy so I could demonstrate my love for her appropriately. We were awakened hours later by the attendant who told us we were about to land. Hosi returned to her seat; we moved them into “the full upright position,” and waited for the landing in Brazil.Our diplomatic passports enabled us to move swiftly through Immigration and Customs. We had our bag so we grabbed a cab to the American Consulate. Once again we were granted admission and escorted to the Consul's office. “Hello, again,” I began, “Secretary Spillane requested we return these to you. I doubt we will need them again.”“Yes, I received a cable from the Secretary. He is most appreciative of your efforts on behalf of your country. I have no idea what you did—and I don't really want to know—but he has given instructions to hold the passports here in the event that you will need them again. Also, I've been instructed to inform you that your mother has been sent to Gitmo and will stay there unless you intervene. Does that make any sense to you?”“Yes, unfortunately it does. My mother tried to kill me. If it weren't for Hosi I'd probably be dead now. Please tell John I said thanks, but I have no intention of doing anything for at least the next year. Then I don't care what they do with or to her. Thanks for your help; I do have one more request.” Knowing that the Consulate had all kinds of communications equipment I asked if someone would send a message to my brother. I gave them the time and frequency along with the brief message; it went out and was received at 9:00 that night.Hosi and I found a small hotel; on the way she asked me, “What is ‘gitmo?'”I explained it was short for Guantanamo Bay, a navy base on the island of Cuba, which was interesting because basically we were enemies. I explained the history and how the U.S. had established a detention center there for terrorists.”“Is your mother a terrorist?”“Not really, but when you attack someone with diplomatic status I guess that's terrorism. I'm sure she was more surprised than even we were. Truthfully, I don't really care.”We checked in for the night. The first thing she did was turn on the TV; luckily there were no Adult programs, not that Hosi needed them. After a plain vanilla start she had begun to show considerable imagination, wanting to try everything. Some of the positions she told me about were physically impossible for mortal men. I only prayed she didn't learn about BDSM. We went to a rodizio—an all-you-can-eat Brazilian barbeque restaurant—for dinner. The waiter stood there unbelieving at how much Hosi could eat. She must have had the world's fastest metabolism because she never gained even a single pound. Having slept on the plane we went out looking for some nightlife—anything so long as I didn't have to dance. So, of course, we wound up in a bar/club where there was loud music and crazy Brazilian dancing. I loved looking at it—it was sexy as hell when other people did it--but I knew from past experience that I looked like a scarecrow in a tornado. We sat and listened, ordering two beers until some guy came and asked Hosi to dance. I waved her on—I knew she could take care of herself and I wanted her to have a good time.Unfortunately that good time took a nasty turn when the guy put his hand someplace where only I was given permission to go. She slapped him, but the impact was more like a punch from Mike Tyson. He looked up startled from the floor to see Hosi stomping away, coming back to me at the table. “You've got to stop killing off the population,” I kidded her, but I kept an eye on her erstwhile dancing partner. He got up and walked away, but soon he was gesturing wildly to several friends who stole glances in our direction.Rather than turn Hosi loose I asked a waiter for the manager. When he came I acted indignant that my wife had been groped on the dance floor so badly that she had to slap her assailant. I pointed to where they were standing. Next thing I knew they were being escorted out. I prayed they'd have the good sense to leave.They didn't; they were there in the street when we left. “Gentlemen,” I began in my best Portuguese, “why don't we just call this a misunderstanding? My wife felt you insulted her and she reacted. Probably we're all square. Let's not overreact.” Naturally, there were some really insulting remarks aimed at my manhood. I had to explain in English to Hosi who was incensed, just what I wanted to avoid. She gave me her shoes and shooed me back to the building. It was brutal—I couldn't watch. In less than a minute all three men were lying, bleeding in the gutter. Hosi was just putting her sandals back on when the police arrived. I explained what had occurred and why, finishing by saying we didn't want to press charges. The officer laughed, agreeing that they had probably paid the worst punishment already, being beaten by a girl.I translated everything for Hosi—everything but that last comment. We didn't need her assaulting a policeman. We were just about to walk away when he asked how she did it. “Karate expert,” was my answer. He nodded knowledgeably in response. We walked slowly back to the hotel, arriving there in five minutes.I led Hosi to our room; it was pretty much what I would have expected in any medium to large city—small, quiet, and somewhat worn. I collapsed on the relatively small double bed. Hosi fell on top of me. “You know, you should be more careful, being pregnant, and all.”She pooh-poohed me, telling me that I was being silly. “You worry too much, David. I could handle them while I was giving birth. They were sissies.” “Maybe, but some day they'll have guns and you'll be dead. Then what will I do? What will Kela do?” That was all I had to say. She knew I'd survive, but her daughter…. she was contrite. “I don't know what came over me, David. I love it when you touch me there, but I don't want anyone else to do it.”“Then what you needed to do was leave the dance floor and come back to me. He would have gotten the message and nobody would have gotten hurt. Remember, this is supposed to be ‘civilization.'” She looked at me, saw that I was kidding and we both laughed. We rolled around on the bed and when we stopped we looked into each other's eyes. We couldn't get our clothes off fast enough. I ripped my shirt over my head and threw it—no idea where. I'd worry about it later, maybe tomorrow. My shorts were shrugged over my knees and past my ankles. Somehow Hosi was way ahead of me. She giggled as she pulled my boxers down my legs. She threw them into the air and dove onto me. “Is it OK if I touch you…there,” I asked kiddingly.“David, you can touch me everywhere and you can do anything you want to me.” I looked again into those marvelous green eyes and whispered, “I love you.”“Well, then, why aren't you fucking me?”“Well,” I said pensively, “I think that first I want to lick and suck your breasts and then I want to lick and suck your delectable pussy and then I think I'll finger your ass.” That got her attention! “And then…maybe I'll fuck you. Since that will take a while I think I'd better get started…OK?” By now she was laughing hysterically. I moved down to what she laughingly referred to as her “blobs of fat.” God, they were gorgeous, so beautifully formed…so terribly sensitive. I lowered my mouth, kissing her all over her breasts before moving to her areolas. Hosi's weren't huge, only about an inch and a half in diameter, but they were incredibly sensitive. Touching her areolas was more exciting to Hosi than touching, rolling, and pinching her nipples. She always squirmed when I licked them or touched them with my nose. I suckled each breast, actively reminding her of our lovely baby daughter. I moved farther south, licking my way to her navel. In my experience most navels were just there, you know--something in the middle of the belly. Hosi's was a major tourist attraction, right there in the middle of her six pack abs. Best of all, she was so ticklish there. Just run my tongue around it and she would squeal like a pig while she jumped around the bed. I kissed her abdomen and moved between her silky thighs. As much as I enjoyed the sensation of her smooth skin, that's just how much she enjoyed the touch of my whiskers—go figure!It never took much to get Hosi wet—a kiss, a caress, a cute joke, or my arm around her waist. After all this her cunt was like the Nile in spring, flooding the banks. Her thighs were covered in juice. I licked them clean, but it was a losing proposition. I took on the flow at the source, drinking directly from her cunt. I had just pushed my tongue into her tunnel when she shouted, “STOP!” I looked up, confused. “Turn around. You're not doing all that to me unless I can get even. Send that cock up here so I can suck it.” How could I argue with that kind of logic?I spun around and lay on my back. In a second Hosi was on top of me. “It would be so easy to wrestle with you, David. All I'd have to say is 'I'll suck your cock,” and you'd be on your back in a second.”“Bad joke,” I replied, “I hope your cock sucking will be better than that.”“You're usually satisfied, aren't you?” She leaned down to kiss the tip and then my cock disappeared. That was my signal to dive into her cunt. We went at each other for more than five minutes when I took a quick break, “If you keep that up we're going to have to postpone the fucking.”“OK, but you have to take care of me.”“Don't I always,” I asked as I dove back into her cunt.“Yethhh,” Hosi replied, her mouth full of hard cock. I rammed my finger into her, rubbing her G-spot furiously while I sucked her clit between my teeth. Hosi began to shudder and shake as she stepped up the action on my cock. I don't know how she could concentrate while she was shaking so badly but she did. I drove my hips up and my cock into her throat as I spurted into her six times. She came just as hard, drenching my face in her pungent musky cocktail. She rolled off and we lay there for more than a half hour recovering until she said, “We need some of those Adult movies.”“Oh God,” I groaned. “Let's go to sleep.” She nodded, climbed onto my naked body, and snuggled close, her head securely on my shoulder.To be continued, by senorlongo for SexStories.

Follow along with Greg and Tom in this stand-alone travelogue episode as they visit several historic cities and towns in the Netherlands -- Utrecht, De Bilt, Breukelen and Haarlem -- wandering through cafe-filled streets and old cobblestone alleyways, the air ringing with church bells and street music.But of course, their mission remains the same as the past three episodes. For there are traces of Dutch culture and history all over New York City -- through the names of boroughs, neighborhoods, streets and parks.From Spuyten Duyvil Creek flowing into the Harlem River along the Bronx shoreline to New Utrecht, Gravesend and Cortelyou Road in Brooklyn. All of those place names can be traced to the Dutch presence of New Amsterdam and New Netherland.In the final Bowery Boys episode recorded in the Netherlands, Tom and Greg head to several places that have unique links to the New York City area, mostly through Dutch colonial connections made in the 17th century.Utrecht -- The medieval city with its unique canal wharves and monastery courtyards that may be the bicycle capital of the world. What are its connections to Bensonhurst, Brooklyn?Breukelen -- How did this charming, quiet old town on the Vecht River become the namesake of the borough of Brooklyn? Both places have "Brooklyn Bridges." But there are a couple of other surprising parallels.De Bilt -- The ancestral home of the Vanderbilt family, can Tom find one of their 17th-century ancestors among the stones of an old cemetery?Haarlem -- Manhattan's Harlem remains one of America's cultural centers, and the rustic Dutch city that inspired its name also has cultural riches aplenty -- from its museums to its historic windmill Molen de Adriaan.WITH -- Mysterious pharmaceuticals, pedal boat misadventures, ghostly apparitions and Aperol Spritzes!PLUS: The s pecial link between Amsterdam's Jewish Quarter and New York City's Lower East Side -- through pickles Visit the website for images of their journeyFollow Instagram to see reels from their trip

Extrait : « … [il] déménage à Brooklyn, où, vaguement keupon dans l'âme, il rejoint Woods, un groupe de noise-folk, en tant que bassiste. Là-bas il rencontre Cassie Ramone, chanteuse du trio punk Vivian Girls, avec laquelle il forme un projet parallèle appelé The Babies, qui parvient à publier deux albums en 2011 et 2012. Puis il se sépare de tout ce petit monde, déménage à Los Angeles, se laisse pousser les cheveux, oublie le No Future et adopte le Peace and love version 21e siècle … »Pour commenter les épisodes, tu peux le faire sur ton appli de podcasts habituelle, c'est toujours bon pour l'audience. Mais également sur le site web dédié, il y a une section Le Bar, ouverte 24/24, pour causer du podcast ou de musique en général, je t'y attends avec impatience. Enfin, si tu souhaites me soumettre une chanson, c'est aussi sur le site web que ça se passe. Pour soutenir Good Morning Music et Gros Naze :1. Abonne-toi2. Laisse-moi un avis et 5 étoiles sur Apple Podcasts, ou Spotify et Podcast Addict3. Partage ton épisode préféré à 3 personnes autour de toi. Ou 3.000 si tu connais plein de monde. Good Morning Music Hébergé par Acast. Visitez acast.com/privacy pour plus d'informations.

Celebrate 2000 downloads with a bonus travelogue of our boat trip around the island of Manhattan, thanks to Rich and Julia!  We start in Port Washington on Long Island, cruise past Rikers Island to the East River, down to Brooklyn to pick up our crew.  A counterclockwise course took us back up the East River, into the Harlem River, around the top of the island into the Hudson. Down along Harlem to the West Side, under the George Washington bridge, along the West Side highway, past the municipal piers to Lower Manhattan.  Around the tip next to the Staten Island Ferry Terminal, under the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges and back up the East River and home.  We lucked out with the weather, calm, mostly sunny, perfect temperature.  Thank you again to our hosts!  Email us at theboatyshow@gmail.com, follow on Instagram @theboatyshow, like, subscribe, leave a review, and most importantly come back and listen every Wednesday! Thanks so much. 

This month, Karen and I talk about an ablum she picked. Justin Townes Earl's Harlem River Blues. Karen loves this album. What did I think.  https://twitter.com/KarenJonasMusic https://www.instagram.com/karenjonasmusic/ http://www.karenjonasmusic.com https://www.patreon.com/karenjonas For more Beyond the Playlist https://twitter.com/JHammondC https://www.facebook.com/groups/Beyondtheplaylist/ Theme music by MFTJ Featuring MIke Keneally and Scott Schorr - to find more of MFTJ go to https://www.lazybones.com/ https://mftj.bandcamp.com/music http://www.keneally.com/

This is the All Local 4 p.m. update for December 24, 2023. 

Join hosts Tom Davies and Chris Catchpole in an artist interview that unveils the celebrated catalog of Dead Ocean's own Kevin Morby. Find yourself smack dab in New York's DIY indie scene, where Kevin gained his bearings playing as a live musician with the band Woods, to becoming the solo act that has been lovingly compared to Bob Dylan, Neil Young, and Patti Smith. Kevin opens up about his experience with The Babies' Our House on the Hill,  as well as his own solo records Harlem River, Singing Saw, City Music, Oh My God, Sundowner, and his latest work This Is A Photograph. Hear stories about forming a band whose devil-may-care goal was to play New York house parties, how meeting the production legend Richard Swift at a restaurant in LA led to working together, and how Rick Rubin's podcast helped form the idea of writing from the perspective of  Mabel - a recluse from New York. For those who get it, This Is A Podcast! Links:  Secretly Society Podcast Link Jamila Woods Episode Link to Playlist  Secretly Society Podcast Store Link Secretly Society General Information Link   Kevin Morby:  Kevin Morby Website Link Kevin Morby on Instagram Kevin Morby on Twitter Kevin Morby on Facebook

In September 1957 baseball's Dodgers, who'd called Brooklyn home since 1884, and Ebbets Field since 1913, played their final games in Flatbush. They'd been World Champions just two years earlier. Simultaneously, over in northern Manhattan, The New York Giants, champions in 1954, and at home near Coogan's Bluff since 1883, played their final game overlooking the Harlem River. Both teams would move three-thousand miles west to California. The Dodgers would settle in Los Angeles, first at Memorial Coliseum and then in the famed Dodger Stadium, winning the 1959 World Series, and five more in the years since. The Giants moved to San Francisco, played their home games at the mercilessly windy Candlestick Park, before moving to a new stadium in 2000, winning three world titles in the twenty-first century. New York would be left without a National League team to rival the cross-town Yankees for five years, until the New York Metropolitans, colloquially known as the Mets, were formed. They're winners of two world championships of their own. In 1960 hall of fame pitcher Bob Feller, hosting a syndicated show, spoke about that last Giants baseball weekend at the Polo Grounds. There's an old adage that says “change is life's only constant.” Post-War hope turned into labor strife and a baby boom, which gave rise to the most profitable radio year in history—1948—leading directly to the TV era. The new deal was more than ten years old and an urban diaspora, guided by white flight and atomic fear, brought families to newly blossomed suburban communities and left cities wondering what the future held. More uncertainty lay ahead. Four days into October, the USSR would launch Sputnik I, the first artificial Earth-orbiting satellite. Everybody's lives got a little nearer, and yet a little further apart. But, if they wanted to feel close, all they had to do was tune on a radio to a CBS affiliate Sunday afternoons as George Walsh breathed “and now” to open for Suspense. They'd perhaps remember a time when Jack Benny drove radio ratings, while his cast drove him crazy. To a time when Tuesday nights meant NBC with Fibber Mcgee and Molly, Bob Hope, and Red Skelton. When Thursdays meant Crosby, Suspense, and Burns and Allen. And to a time when Norman Corwin helped remember what brought us home. It's where we're all going anyway. More specifically, it's where we're heading next month.

"Du musstest hart sein, um zu überleben." Ana "Rokafella" Garcia erinnert sich an Glasscherben und Urin-Gestank im Treppenhaus. An den Sound der Sirenen. Sie ist in der South Bronx aufgewachsen und wurde eine der ersten weiblichen Breakerinnen. Heute brennt die Bronx nicht mehr. Der Kiez der Gangs am Harlem River hat sich gewandelt: Der Stadtteil wird schick. Hip Hop feiert seinen 50. Geburtstag. Doch die Bewohner eines der strukturschwächsten Stadtteile der USA kämpfen noch immer. Viele fürchten: Auch ohne Feuer könnten sie bald vertrieben werden. Weitere interessante Informationen: Rokafella: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pwiweueUuSA https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-z96rFXco0 Trailer "Decade of fire" : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=282qnqL08iY

Public housing is the oldest and one of the largest subsidy programs in the country. However, there hasn't been any significant expansion of public housing spending since 1974 when President Nixon placed a moratorium on that budget. In this episode, I shine a light on the complicated history of government housing and the deep influence it has on segregation and race-related issues in the United States. I also revisit a conversation with Rachel Loeb, former president and CEO of the New York City Economic Development Corporation, an agency that develops housing under the auspices of economic development. We discuss the vision for Bronx Point, a mixed-use development offering housing, community facilities, retail, and outdoor space along the Harlem River waterfront in the South Bronx.Ensuring a diversity of income levels and housing stock, Bronx Point includes 1,000 units of studios, one, two, and three-bedroom options for families, and units set aside for formerly homeless individuals. The surrounding area provides access to The Children's Museum, community colleges, and a food hall that not only offers fresh options to residents, but also gives small food vendors an opportunity to conduct business.In addition to the details of Bronx Point, Rachel and I dive into the importance of diversity and representation, innovation through an equity lens, and the gold standard for waterfront resilience and risk reduction. About the Guest:Rachel Loeb is the former President & CEO of the New York City Economic Development Authority. Prior to her work there, she was the Director of Development at the World-Wide Group and a Senior Director at AvalonBay Communities. She is a graduate of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Northwestern University.Topics Covered:The history of government-sponsored housing in New York City How race relates to government-sponsored housingDriving innovation with the help of the government Financing for the Bronx Point project Tangible ways that NYCEDC aims to infuse local culture and history into the Bronx Point projectHow corporations build trust with communities Resources Mentioned: A 'Forgotten History' Of How The U.S. Government Segregated AmericaAbout Your HostAtif Qadir is the Founder of Commonplace, a company dedicated to tackling one of the biggest barriers to more inclusive, affordable, and sustainable development: improving access to capital. Commonplace helps impact-driven developers and capital providers with shared values discover and connect with each other.Connect with Rachel LoebConnect with Rachel on LinkedInFollow NYCEDC on LinkedInLearn more about NYCEDC Follow Us: Grab our exclusive guide: How Eight Developers & Designers Are Responding to the Housing CrisisLearn more on the American Building websiteFollow us on

Two boys from Harlem have been missing since Friday night. They were last seen by the Harlem River.

In 1954, it took a historic season to dethrone the Yankees who were five-time defending world champions. Although they won one-hundred three games, the Cleveland Indians won a then-American League record one-hundred eleven. The Indians were led by Center Fielder Larry Doby, the first African-American player in the AL, Third Basemen Al Rosen, and slugger Vic Wertz. Their pitching staff was anchored by Early Wynn, Bob Lemon and Bob Feller. In the National League, the pennant winners were the underdog New York Giants, who won ninety-seven games, once again beating out the Brooklyn Dodgers. The Giants drew 1.15 million fans to the Polo Grounds, second in the National League. Built in a hollow overlooking Coogan's Bluff near the western shore of the Harlem River in the Washington Heights section of Manhattan, a Polo Grounds ballpark had been on this site since 1890. The quirky park was shaped like a bathtub. It was only two-hundred-eighty feet from home plate down the left field line, and only two-hundred-sixty feet down the right. Center field however was over four-hundred-eighty feet away. But, the surrounding neighborhood was changing and Giants owner Horace Stonham began to wonder if he could draw more fans elsewhere. In the eighth inning of game one, the score was tied at two. Cleveland's Al Rosen and Larry Doby had both reached base on Giants pitcher Sal Maglie. Vic Wertz came up to bat. Wertz hit a ball to deep center field, where Giants superstar Willy Mays was playing. Mays ran straight backwards and caught the ball over his shoulder with his back to the field. Later nicknamed “the catch,” it changed the entire complexion of the series. The Giants would go on to sweep the Indians to claim the 1954 World Series title. It would be their last World Championship in New York. Baseball's economic model was changing. As great as the Yankees were, their dominance over the game created a league problem. The G.I. Bill was bringing families to the suburbs in the 1950s — and most of these families were white — radio and TV were embedding deeper into local markets. Major League cities were struggling to support two teams. After the 1952 season, the National League's Boston Braves, unable to compete with the Red Sox, moved to Milwaukee and won the World Series in five years. The AL St. Louis Browns moved to Baltimore after the 1953 season and became the Orioles, where they won 6 American League pennants in their first thirty years. The next year the Philadelphia Athletics moved to Kansas City, where they would remain until moving again, to Oakland, in 1968. Oakland won three consecutive championships in the 1970s. Although fans of every other team loved to hate the Yankees, the franchise was a lightning rod for celebrities and other heroes. Throughout the years Mel Allen had many interesting guests in the booth, like noted Pirates fan Bing Crosby. The team the Yankees often defeated in the World Series? The Brooklyn Dodgers, who lost to the Yankees in 1941, 1947, 1949, 1952, and 1953. In 1955 the tide finally turned and the Bums from Brooklyn became World Champions. Later, retired Hall of Fame player and then broadcaster Frankie Frisch was inside the Brooklyn Dodgers clubhouse speaking to the victorious team. Two years later, owner Walter O'Malley was in a dispute with New York City Park's Commissioner Robert Moses. Ebbets Field, open since 1913 was falling apart. The success of the Dodgers, and the population explosion in Brooklyn had made Ebbets Field too small. The 1957 seating capacity was a tiny thirty-two thousand. Yankee Stadium could seat nearly double. O'Malley wanted to build a stadium at the intersection of Flatbush and Atlantic Avenues in Brooklyn. Robert Moses wanted the team moved to Flushing Meadows–Corona Park in Queens.

This episode is also available as a blog post: https://thecitylife.org/2023/04/13/virtual-public-workshops-begin-next-week-to-develop-plan-for-7-mile-harlem-river-greenway-in-the-bronx/ --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

This episode is also available as a blog post: https://thecitylife.org/2023/03/22/plan-to-expand-harlem-river-greenway-to-the-bronx/ --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

Welcome back to Lesson 15! Only 90s kids will remember! In 1997, The once great city of New York became the one maximum security prison for the entire country. A fifty-foot containment wall was erected along the New Jersey shoreline, across the Harlem River, and down along the Brooklyn shoreline. It completely surrounded Manhattan Island. All bridges and waterways were mined. The United States Police Force, like an army, was encamped around the island. There were no guards inside the prison, only prisoners and the worlds they have made. The rules were simple: once you go in, you don't come out.Yes, this week, we're talking about John Carpenter's Escape From New York. Released in 1981 but set in an even drearier 1997 than I remember, where everyone is miserable except for the eternally happy Ernest Borgnine who just loves driving his cab. Did you know YOU can talk to us? Crazy, right? Follow us on Facebook @HomeworkThePodcast, on Twitter @hwthepod

On January 1, 2023, New York City will celebrate a special moment, the 125th anniversary of the formation of Greater New York and the creation of the five boroughs — The Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens and Staten Island.In honor of this special moment in New York City history, we are celebrating a bit early, reissuing our episode (originally #150) on the Consolidation and the formation of the boroughs, with a new introduction.And stay tuned for new episodes of the Bowery Boys Podcast for the rest of the year!----Here's the story of how two very big cities and a whole bunch of small towns and villages — completely different in nature, from farmland to skyscraper — became the greatest city in the world.This is the tale of Greater New York, the forming of the five boroughs into one metropolis, a consolidation of massive civic interests which became official on January 1, 1898. But this is not a story of interested parties, united in a common goal.In fact, Manhattan (comprising, with some areas north of the Harlem River, the city of New York) was in a bit of a battle with anti-consolidation forces, mostly in Brooklyn, who saw the merging of two biggest cities in America as the end of the noble autonomy for that former Dutch city on the western shore of Long Island. You'll be stunned to hear how easily it could have all fallen apart!In this podcast is the story of Manhattan, Brooklyn, the Bronx, Queens and Staten Island (or Richmond, if you will) and their journey to become one. And how, rather recently in fact, one of those boroughs would grow uncomfortable with the arrangement.---- Other Bowery Boys podcasts to listen to with similar themes:The Father of Greater New York: The Story of Andrew Haswell GreenThe Bronx is Born: Before It Was A BoroughThe Staten Island Ferry: Its Story, From Sail To SteamThe History of Astoria and Long Island CityThe Story of Brooklyn Heights

Andrew Marchand and John Ourand interview Amazon Sports VP of Global Sports Video, Marie Donoghue. Donoghue is the one who first hatched Amazon's plan to go after the rights for Thursday Night Football and she led how the streamer has approached its look in front and behind the cameras. In the pod, Donoghue reveals some news on an addition to TNF's pregame, talks about interest in the NBA, Big 12 and Pac 12. She also tells of what it was like to row in the Harlem River as part of Columbia's crew team in college.  Plus, Marchand and Ourand have their usual segments of "Who's Up" and "Who's down," delve deep into Major League Baseball and Sinclair, while also providing a prognosis of the current state of the Pac 12 deal. And one sportscaster receives the coveted "Call of the Week" award.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Episode: 2328 George Lindenthal's great unbuilt bridge from Manhattan to New Jersey.  Today, an unbuilt bridge.

On tonight's edition of The Chronicles of Dominic Carter, Dominic talks about FDNY Marine Unit 4 rescuing a pitbull mix that was thrown into the Harlem River, and an attacker pulling a 74 year old woman by her hair and throwing her onto the street at Malcolm X Boulevard. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

On July 27 2015 20 year old Maylin Reynoso left her job  in the Bronx New York and wasn't seen again. Four days later an unidentified body was found floating in the Harlem River. As the family continues searching for Maylin, her body sat unidentified for days. Why? Letty and Marilyn discuss how media bias may have contributed to the disconnection of these two very connected instances. Girl VowTimeline: How ‘Missing White Girl Syndrome' has overshadowed crimes against Latinas over the yearsMaylin Reynoso: 5 Fast Facts You Need to KnowWhat Happened to Maylin?How Missing White Girl Syndrome is thriving in today's societyWhat We Know (And Don't Know) About 'Missing White Women Syndrome'Maylin Reynoso: A Poem For Black And Brown Girls Forgotten By The World

The majority of the New York City Council members are new, and are part of a class that is the most diverse and progressive in city history. Over the next year, Brian Lehrer will get to know all 51 members. This week, Council Member Althea Stevens talks about her priorities for District 16. For "Show and Tell," Council Member Stevens offered New York's oldest standing bridge, the High Bridge. It's one of many landmarks in a district that also includes Yankee Stadium and the birthplace of hip-hop. A view of the High Bridge, built in 1848, the oldest standing bridge in New York. It spans the Harlem River, connecting Manhattan's Washington Heights and the Bronx's Highbridge, June, 9, 2015. (Bebeto Matthews/AP Photo) Catch up with all the interviews here.

Sunset at the incredible Mayan Warrior art car, Burning Man 2018. All uploads on this channel are for promotional purposes only! The music has been converted before uploading to prevent ripping and to protect the artist(s) and label(s). If you don't want your content here (that goes for audio or images) please contact me immediately via email: unpluggedtube@outlook.it and I WILL REMOVE THE EPISODE OR ARTWORK IMMEDIATELY! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- TRACKLIST: 0:00 Harlem River 10:51 Black Day 16:27 New Morning (ft Acid Pauli) 22:48 Rearrange My Mind 35:48 The End 42:32 Under Dark (Innellea Remix) 49:39 Zigan Aldi - Fidale (Monolink Remix) 55:36 Sirens (Extended Version) 1:03:00 Burning Sun Reshared by Team UNPLUGGED.

The majority of the New York City Council members are new, and are part of a class that is the most diverse and progressive in city history. Over the next year Brian Lehrer will get to know all 51 members. This week, Councilmember Kristin Richardson Jordan talks about her priorities for District 9, which runs north from Central Park to the Harlem River. We're asking each council member to bring a show and tell from their district. @Kristin4Harlem brings Harlem's Harriet Tubman statue, "Swing Low." In 2008 Tubman became the first African American woman to be depicted in public sculpture in New York City. pic.twitter.com/dxOOO02cul — The Brian Lehrer Show and A Daily Politics Podcast (@BrianLehrer) March 1, 2022

Slumlord C+C Management has just taken over Harlem River Houses from NYCHA. This means that the tenants of the complex are no longer protected by Section 9 public housing laws and instead fall under Section 8 low-income housing rules, which are less protective. This privatization and gentrification scheme being pushed by Eric Adams puts the roughly 600,000 people living in NYCHA buildings at a larger threat of eviction and bad conditions. On Saturday, tenants of Harlem River Houses and their allies held a rally to speak out against the privatization. Vanessa, and Ryan, members of the United Front Against Displacement, speak with us about the struggle. Vanessa is also a tenant of Harlem River Houses.

Muralist Janet Braun-Reinitz discusses CAW's mural: Estuary.  Harlem River is an estuary, as is the Hudson River, in this mural, this fact is used as a metaphor to the flowing diversity and life of Harlem.

Muralist Janet Braun-Reinitz discusses CAW's mural: Harlem River.  The goal of this mural is to draw attention to some of Harlem's illustrious history across the 'rivers' of time.

On this week's show we will visit the twin neighborhoods of Concourse and Highbridge in the Bronx.  My guests will be expert tour guide Jeremy Wilcox, Founder and Owner of Custom NYC Tours; and Walter Puryear, Senior Director at the Andrew Freedman Home, a center for arts and artists located on the Grand Concourse.Tune in for this fascinating conversation at TalkRadio.nyc or watch the Facebook Livestream by clicking here.Show NotesSegment 1Tonight's show topic will revolve around the twin neighborhoods of Concourse and Highbridge in the Bronx. The first guest will be Jeremy Wilcox who is the Founder and Owner of Custom NYC Tours. Jeremey first became a tour guide about five years ago but has always gone exploring around neighborhoods with his friends. One of his friends inspired him to quit his job and follow his dreams which paid off. The first tour he gave was in the Summer of 2016. The first tour he got paid to give was of Wall Street and the World Trade Center Area. Highbridge got its name after the bridge that connects the neighborhood to Washington Heights and Manhattan. It stretches over the Harlem River.Segment 2One of Jeremy's most famous tours is his tour of landmarks as well as his art deco and Highbridge tour. People can find out more information at NYCtours.com. Originally, the neighborhood of Concourse was not a part of the Bronx but was built up during the Great Depression which eventually helped lead to them joining. The original walkway of Concourse was finished in the early 1900's. When the buildings went up, the first communities who inhabited the location were mostly middle class people along with Jewish people. At the beginning of this century, investors started to invest in the area. Also in 2011 a renovation took place which led to the neighborhood's reinvention.Segment 3The second half of the show will feature a second guest named Walter Puryear who is a Senior Director at the Andrew Freedman Home which is a center for arts and artists located on the Grand Concourse. Walter has lived in New York for the majority of his life. He has lived in many different locations around the Bronx. He has been around arts and artists since he was around the age of six. He was a child actor. Next, the origin of the Andrew Freeman home is discussed. Andrew Freeman was someone who created a place to house people who were suffering through unfortunate circumstances and needed assistance. The home also has advanced medical services.Segment 4The Andrew Freeman home also makes an emphasis on trying to transform a person overall. They were already known for their workforce program that was geared towards the adults but later they expanded. Their after school and weekend programs became more art focused and the themes of the shows they were putting on were based on real world issues. Walter has helped many people who work a certain occupation use their skills in other ways they never thought possible. It is important for him to help others realize that they can create their own narratives. In addition, he will be having a small opening in September for the Redlining exhibition.

Fordham Road is not far from the Harlem River and is just a few blocks away from Arthur Avenue in the Bronx. The resiliency of […] Read More

Approximately 60 games into the MLB season the Yankees and Red Sox are exact opposites.  Boston is near the top of the AL East while the Yankees ship is sinking in the Harlem River. Who is to blame in NY? Is anyone on the hot seat? Is it time to push the panic button? And what changes, if any, can be made? What is going right in Boston? Are the Sox "For Real"? Plus what does NHL Playoff Hockey have to do with MLB pace of play? All that plus much more....

Jukebox Club Podcast! The music book club. It’s a Jukebox Saturday Night, and we are talking about Justin Townes Earle’s Harlem River Blues! --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/jukebox-club/message

I'm very excited about Kevin Morby coming on the show - he speaks from his shed studio about self producing, Woods, classes in music, keeping it fresh, losing one of his favourite shirts on tour, how they made City Music, doing bike delivery in new york, moving to LA and leaving Woods and The Babies, recording Harlem River & Still Life, how he became a solo artist, when labels came on board, the moment where he started to establish himself as a solo artist, and the first time he heard Farewell Transmission on tour in Wales.Photo: Johnny EastlundGet your beers delivered! 101 Part Time Jobs is supported by Signature Brew: listeners can get 10% off all their beers by visiting signaturebrew.co.uk and using the code '101PODCAST'Songs: Kevin Morby 'Don't Underestimate Midwest American Sun', Cock Sparrer 'Working' See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Richard Dattner, of Dattner Architects, discusses the Lawrence A. Wien Stadium and its' responsiveness to community concerns. The Lawrence A. Wien Stadium replaces the legendary 50,000-seat wooden stadium which served Columbia University since 1927. Built on Columbia's 27-acre Baker Field in upper Manhattan, and overlooking the Harlem River and New Jersey Palisades, the new facility is responsive to community concerns. It allows off-hour community use of the running track. In order to minimize the stadium's visual impact on the surrounding residential community, the home stand structure is partially on-grade - taking advantage of a natural slope and lowering the profile of the stadium complex.

In 1988, the crime rate in the United States rises four hundred percent. The once great city of New York becomes the one maximum security prison for the entire country. A fifty-foot containment wall is erected along the New Jersey shoreline, across the Harlem River, and down along the Brooklyn shoreline. It completely surrounds Manhattan Island. All bridges and waterways are mined. The United States Police Force, like an army, is encamped around the island. There are no guards inside the prison, only prisoners and the worlds they have made. The rules are simple: once you go in, you don't come out. On this episode of Bots, Bugs, And Babes, my father (Al Jaconetti) and I look back at Escape From New York (1981). As we break down this John Carpenter classic, we explore all the different aspects of the film, including the alternate opening scene and how it would change the tone of the film. We also look at how this movie helped jump start the career of a child actor who is now a true legend. So prep the glider, grab your eye patch, and make sure you have the cassette, as we try to escape from the across a bridge that may not even be there. And remember, I'm the number 1! Feedback for this show can be sent to: botsbugsbabes@gmail.com

In 1988, the crime rate in the United States rises four hundred percent. The once great city of New York becomes the one maximum security prison for the entire country. A fifty-foot containment wall is erected along the New Jersey shoreline, across the Harlem River, and down along the Brooklyn shoreline. It completely surrounds Manhattan Island. All bridges and waterways are mined. The United States Police Force, like an army, is encamped around the island. There are no guards inside the prison, only prisoners and the worlds they have made. The rules are simple: once you go in, you don't come out. On this episode of Bots, Bugs, And Babes, my father (Al Jaconetti) and I look back at Escape From New York (1981). As we break down this John Carpenter classic, we explore all the different aspects of the film, including the alternate opening scene and how it would change the tone of the film. We also look at how this movie helped jump start the career of a child actor who is now a true legend. So prep the glider, grab your eye patch, and make sure you have the cassette, as we try to escape from the across a bridge that may not even be there. And remember, I'm the number 1! Feedback for this show can be sent to: botsbugsbabes@gmail.com

In 1988, the crime rate in the United States rises four hundred percent. The once great city of New York becomes the one maximum security prison for the entire country. A fifty-foot containment wall is erected along the New Jersey shoreline, across the Harlem River, and down along the Brooklyn shoreline. It completely surrounds Manhattan Island. All bridges and waterways are mined. The United States Police Force, like an army, is encamped around the island. There are no guards inside the prison, only prisoners and the worlds they have made. The rules are simple: once you go in, you don't come out. On this episode of Bots, Bugs, And Babes, my father (Al Jaconetti) and I look back at Escape From New York (1981). As we break down this John Carpenter classic, we explore all the different aspects of the film, including the alternate opening scene and how it would change the tone of the film. We also look at how this movie helped jump start the career of a child actor who is now a true legend. So prep the glider, grab your eye patch, and make sure you have the cassette, as we try to escape from the across a bridge that may not even be there. And remember, I'm the number 1! Feedback for this show can be sent to: botsbugsbabes@gmail.com

In 1988, the crime rate in the United States rises four hundred percent. The once great city of New York becomes the one maximum security prison for the entire country. A fifty-foot containment wall is erected along the New Jersey shoreline, across the Harlem River, and down along the Brooklyn shoreline. It completely surrounds Manhattan Island. All bridges and waterways are mined. The United States Police Force, like an army, is encamped around the island. There are no guards inside the prison, only prisoners and the worlds they have made. The rules are simple: once you go in, you don't come out. On this episode of Bots, Bugs, And Babes, my father (Al Jaconetti) and I look back at Escape From New York (1981). As we break down this John Carpenter classic, we explore all the different aspects of the film, including the alternate opening scene and how it would change the tone of the film. We also look at how this movie helped jump start the career of a child actor who is now a true legend. So prep the glider, grab your eye patch, and make sure you have the cassette, as we try to escape from the across a bridge that may not even be there. And remember, I'm the number 1! Feedback for this show can be sent to: botsbugsbabes@gmail.com

Chapter 3When "Dixie" was being played a dark-haired young man sprang up from somewhere with a Mosby guerrilla yell and waved frantically his soft- brimmed hat. Then he strayed through the smoke, dropped into the vacant chair at our table and pulled out cigarettes.The evening was at the period when reserve is thawed. One of us mentioned three Wurzburgers to the waiter; the dark-haired young man acknowledged his inclusion in the order by a smile and a nod. I hastened to ask him a question because I wanted to try out a theory I had."Would you mind telling me," I began, "whether you are from--"The fist of E. Rushmore Coglan banged the table and I was jarred into silence."Excuse me," said he, "but that's a question I never like to hear asked. What does it matter where a man is from? Is it fair to judge a man by his post-office address?Why, I've seen Kentuckians who hated whiskey, Virginians who weren't descended from Pocahontas, Indianians who hadn't written a novel, Mexicans who didn't wear velvet trousers with silver dollars sewed along the seams, funny Englishmen, spendthrift Yankees, cold-blooded Southerners, narrow- minded Westerners, and New Yorkers who were too busy to stop for an hour on the street to watch a one-armed grocer's clerk do up cranberries in paper bags. Let a man be a man and don't handicap him with the label of any section.""Pardon me," I said, "but my curiosity was not altogether an idle one. I know the South, and when the band plays 'Dixie' I like to observe. I have formed the belief that the man who applauds that air with special violence and ostensible sectional loyalty is invariably a native of either Secaucus, N.J., or the district between Murray Hill Lyceum and the Harlem River, this city. I was about to put my opinion to the test by inquiring of this gentleman when you interrupted with your own--larger theory, I must confess."　　正演奏着"迪克西"，就在这时一位黑发年轻小伙子不知从什么地方蹦了出来，一声莫斯比⑨游击队队员的吼声，疯狂地挥舞着软边帽，迂回地穿过烟雾，落座于我们桌旁的空椅子上，抽出一只烟来。　　这夜晚到了打破缄默的时候了。我们当中有人向侍者要了三杯维尔茨堡酒，黑发小伙子明白也包括他有一杯在内，便笑了笑，点了点头。我赶忙问他一个问题，因为我要证实我的一种理论。　　"你不介意告诉我，你是哪儿的人……"　　Ｅ·拉什莫尔·科格兰的拳头砰一声砸在桌上，把我吓得沉默了。　　"原谅我，"他说，"但我决不喜欢听到这种问话。是哪里人又有什么相干呢？从一个人的通讯地址来判断人公正吗？唉，我见过肯塔基人厌恶威士忌，弗吉尼亚人不是从波卡洪塔丝⑩传下来的，印地安纳人没写过一本小说。墨西哥人不穿缝口上钉银币的丝绒裤，有趣的英国人，挥霍的北方佬，冷酷的南方人，气量狭小的西方人，纽约人太匆忙，没能花上一小时在街上瞧瞧杂货店的独臂售货员怎样把越橘装进纸袋。让人真正像人，不要用任何地域的标签给他设置障碍。""请原谅，"我说，"但我的好奇心不是毫无根据的。我了解南方，当乐队奏起'迪克西'时，我喜欢观察。我相信那位为这只乐曲喝采特别卖劲、假装对南方最为忠诚的人一定来自新泽西州的塞考卡，或者在本市默里·希尔·吕克昂和哈莱姆河之间。我正要寻问这位绅士来证实我的看法，恰好被你的理论所打断，当然是更大的理论，我必须承认。"　　⑨莫斯比（Ｊｏｈｎ Ｓｉｎｇｌｅｔｏｎ Ｍｏｓｌｙ １８３３-１９１６）：美国内战时，南方联盟别动队首领。南军投降后队伍解散（１８６５），后加入共和党，曾任美国驻香港领事（１８７８-１８８５）、司法部长助理（１９０４-１９１０）。　　⑩波卡洪塔丝（Ｐｏｃｈａｈｏｎｔａｓ １５９５-１６１７）：北美波瓦坦印第安人部落联盟首领波瓦坦之女，曾搭救过英国殖民者Ｊｏｈｎ Ｓｍｉｔｈ，与英国移民Ｊｏｈｎ Ｒｏｌｆ结婚（１６１４），后去英国（１６１６），受到上流社会礼遇。

Quelles soient petites ou grandesMatérielles, de chair, ou dans les airsAu carrefour d'une route ou à l’aéroportSur le quai d’une gare ou le pas de la porteLes choses que l’on laisse derrière soiFinissent toujours par revenirAinsi, le coeur léger vous pouvez partirEn musique et avec nous, à bord du train du souvenir.... Desert Express (Allemagne)We’re Leaving On The Lonely Midnight Train(We’re Leaving On The Lonely Midnight Train / Forever And Ever Down, 1978). Caetano Veloso (Brésil)You Don’t Know Me (Transa,1972). Charles Aznavour (France)Partir (Non,Je N’ai Rien Oublié, 1971). Martin Circus (France)J’ai Perdu (Acte II, 1971). The Sants (EtatsUnis)Leaving You, Baby ‘OnThe Midnight Train' (Leaving You, Baby / High Tide, 1966). Hommes de la Communauté Saa (Vanuatu)Bilbilan :Passage de grades(Enregistrement des ethnomusicologues Monika Stern et Alexandre François,à Bunlap , sud de l’île de Pentecôte, 2000 . Musiques Du Vanuatu – Fêtes Et Mystères, 2013). Andrew Hill (Etats-Unis)Flight19 (Point Of Departure, 1965). Sixto Rodriguez (Etats-Unis)Cause (Coming From Reality, 1971). Norah Jones (Etats-Unis)Out On The Road (Little Broken Hearts, 2012). Sébastien Tellier (France)Aller Vers Le Soleil (Aller Vers Le Soleil, 2014). Jeanette (France)Porque Te Vas (Porque Te Vas Y 9 Exitos Mas, 1976). Kevin Morby (Etats-Unis)If You Leave, And If You Marry (Harlem River, 2013). DeVotchKa (Etats-Unis)We’re Leaving (How It Ends, 2004). Françoise Hardy (France)La Maison Où J’ai Grandi (La Maison Où J’ai Grandi / Il Est Des Choses, 1965)

Join us as we explore the River nestled between Manhattan and the Bronx - the birthplace of rowing in the United States! AdriftNYC explores 30 waterways that touch one or more of the five boroughs of New York City. Each week, you’ll get ideas for a new place to visit, plus learn about the history of the waterway, what’s happening below the surface and how each waterway is inspiring the creation of something amazing, or fun. Share: #AdriftNYC Notes: AdriftNYC.com Instagram: AdriftNYC

In my opinion, the Atlanta United FC match was one of the best games I've watched in a long time. What say you? New York City FC came away with a huge point against a team that is known for their non-stop attack. Though it did take a penalty shot, a goal reversal and an amazing shot by Alexander Ring to come away with a tie. Along with guest Jordan Kessler, Chris P and I discuss the 2-2 result, we choose one player each to analyze and we also preview the upcoming match against Portland Timbers. We also talk about an amazing organization we fully support here on The Nation, South Bronx United. Please find a way to support their cause. This episode is really packed with more goodies as ChrisP is later joined by Nikolai Fedak to talk about the result article YIMBY published in regards to a possible new development project/ soccer stadium for NYCFC called Harlem River Yards. The project coming to the South Bronx would rise adjacent to Somerset Partners’ assortment of new towers already in the works, adding another major affordable housing building, as well as the City’s first dedicated soccer stadium, with 26,000 seats, designed by Rafael Viñoly. Last, but not least, we are excited to announce the sale of our first NYCFC Nation scarf in which ALL proceeds go towards CITC. Click here to learn more. NYCFC Nation Podcast Show Link & Info Episode 165: http://thenycfcnation.com/rising-to-the-occasion-south-bronx-united-yimby-interview-about-harlem-river-yards Upcoming 2018 NYCFC Schedule: http://thenycfcnation.com/2018/01/nycfc-2018-schedule/ Leave Us A Rating And Review Like listening to the NYCFC Nation Podcast? Let us know by leaving a 5 star rating and review to help other New York City FC fans find the podcast. Click here to leave a rating and review on Apple Podcasts or here to leave one on Stitcher! Episode photo credit: Jason Getz-USA TODAY Sports Episode outro music credit: Portugal. The Man - Purple Yellow Red & Blue

Boschi Pope is a New York City skate legend. In August, he hosted the Boschi Pope Skate Off at the Hamilton Bridge Skate Park next to the Harlem River. It was a month after his release from an eight-year prison sentence.  Huge thanks to our supporters on Patreon: Trudy, Dustin, Edward, Jose, Nate, Steve, Alexander, Zach, Basti, Jon, Levi, Sean, Brad, Ivan, Randy, Jeff, and now Brad Anthony. Like this episode? Interested in becoming a Patreon for as little as $1 a month? Click here. Don't forget to like our stupid Facebook page so you don't miss the latest episodes, relevant links, and updates about our growing list of guests.

Here's the story of how two very big cities and a whole bunch of small towns and villages -- completely different in nature, from farmland to skyscraper -- became the greatest city in the world. This is the tale of Greater New York, the forming of the five boroughs into one metropolis, a consolidation of massive civic interests which became official on January 1, 1898. But this is not a story of interested parties, united in a common goal. In fact, Manhattan (comprising, with some areas north of the Harlem River, the city of New York) was in a bit of a battle with anti-consolidation forces, mostly in Brooklyn, who saw the merging of two biggest cities in America as the end of the noble autonomy for that former Dutch city on the western shore of Long Island.  You'll be stunned to hear how easily it could have all fallen apart! In this podcast is the story of Manhattan, Brooklyn, the Bronx, Queens and Staten Island (or Richmond, if you will) and their journey to become one. And how, rather recently in fact, one of those boroughs would grow uncomfortable with the arrangement. www.boweryboyshistory.com Support the show.

Session 4 Wed. April 28, 2010 Reviving the Estuary: Science, Politics, and Education Moderator: Dr. John Waldman, Queens College Speakers/Panelists Deborah A. Mans, Executive Director, NY/NJ Baykeeper Christopher J. Collins, Executive Director, Solar One Cortney Worrall, Director of Programs, Metropolitan Waterfront Alliance Murray Fisher, Urban Assembly New York Harbor School William Kornblum, Author, At Sea in the City: New York at the Water’s Edge In 1609, New York’s future waterfront was an arcadian shore of forests, wetlands, beaches, and sand bars, according to Eric Sanderson's book Mannahatta. That landscape is lost forever, but visions of a post-industrial, neo-natural waterfront are longstanding. In 1944, futurists Paul and Percival Goodman proposed that Manhattan "open out toward the water," lining its gritty waterfront with new parks. They were prescient: today the water’s edge of Manhattan is evolving from a "no-man's-land" into a "highly desirable zone of parks," in the words of writer Phillip Lopate. The newly designated "Manhattan Waterfront Greenway" is cobbled together from many bits and pieces like Battery Park City, Hudson River Park, Riverside Park South, restored Harlem River parks, and tiny Stuyvesant Cove Park––each with its own chronicle of past and present struggles among property owners, community groups, developers, politicians, planners, lawyers, and other stakeholders. Elsewhere in the city, Brooklyn Bridge Park, the Brooklyn Waterfront Greenway, Governors Island, the South Bronx Greenway, Pelham Bay South Waterfront Park, the Bronx River Greenway, and Gateway National Recreation Area are among many waterfront works in progress. The colloquium series will address selected topics and issues relating to what has been achieved and what remains to be done to continue the transformation of New York’s waterfronts.

Session 3 Wed. April 7, 2010 Seizing Opportunities: Waterfront Works in Progress Moderator: Dr. Melissa Checker, Queens College, CUNY Speakers/Panelists Robert Pirani, Regional Plan Association and Governors Island Alliance––Governors Island Kate Van Tassel, NYCEDC and Miquela Craytor, Sustainable South Bronx––South Bronx Greenway Ambassador William J. vanden Heuvel, Four Freedoms Park Nancy Webster, Acting Executive-Director, Brooklyn Bridge Park Conservancy Joshua Laird, Asst. Commissioner, NYC Parks and Recreation Background In 1609, New York’s future waterfront was an arcadian shore of forests, wetlands, beaches, and sand bars, according to Eric Sanderson's book Mannahatta. That landscape is lost forever, but visions of a post-industrial, neo-natural waterfront are longstanding. In 1944, futurists Paul and Percival Goodman proposed that Manhattan "open out toward the water," lining its gritty waterfront with new parks. They were prescient: today the water’s edge of Manhattan is evolving from a "no-man's-land" into a "highly desirable zone of parks," in the words of writer Phillip Lopate. The newly designated "Manhattan Waterfront Greenway" is cobbled together from many bits and pieces like Battery Park City, Hudson River Park, Riverside Park South, restored Harlem River parks, and tiny Stuyvesant Cove Park––each with its own chronicle of past and present struggles among property owners, community groups, developers, politicians, planners, lawyers, and other stakeholders. Elsewhere in the city, Brooklyn Bridge Park, the Brooklyn Waterfront Greenway, Governors Island, the South Bronx Greenway, Pelham Bay South Waterfront Park, the Bronx River Greenway, and Gateway National Recreation Area are among many waterfront works in progress. The colloquium series will address selected topics and issues relating to what has been achieved and what remains to be done to continue the transformation of New York’s waterfronts.

Session 1: Wed. Feb. 24, 2010: "Opening Out Towards the Water"– The Big Picture Moderator: Dr. William Solecki, Director, CISC Speakers/Panelists Dr. Rutherford H. Platt, Senior Fellow, CISC Robert Yaro, President, Regional Plan Association Linda Cox, Executive Director, Bronx River Alliance Wilbur L. Woods, Director, Waterfront and Open Space Planning, New York City Department of City Planning Roland Lewis, CEO, Metropolitan Waterfront Alliance In 1609, New York’s future waterfront was an arcadian shore of forests, wetlands, beaches, and sand bars, according to Eric Sanderson's book Mannahatta. That landscape is lost forever, but visions of a post-industrial, neo-natural waterfront are longstanding. In 1944, futurists Paul and Percival Goodman proposed that Manhattan "open out toward the water,” lining its gritty waterfront with new parks. They were prescient: today the water’s edge of Manhattan is evolving from a "no-man's-land" into a "highly desirable zone of parks," in the words of writer Phillip Lopate. The newly designated “Manhattan Waterfront Greenway” is cobbled together from many bits and pieces like Battery Park City, Hudson River Park, Riverside Park South, restored Harlem River parks, and tiny Stuyvesant Cove Park––each with its own chronicle of past and present struggles among property owners, community groups, developers, politicians, planners, lawyers, and other stakeholders. Elsewhere in the city, Brooklyn Bridge Park, the Brooklyn Waterfront Greenway, Governors Island, the South Bronx Greenway, Pelham Bay South Waterfront Park, the Bronx River Greenway, and Gateway National Recreation Area are among many waterfront works in progress.

Session 2 Wed. March 17, 2010: Waterfront Parks: Old, New, Green, Blue Moderator: Dr. Rutherford H. Platt Speakers/Panelists Amy Gavaris, Executive Vice President for the New York Restoration Project Dr. Vicky Gholson, Friends of Riverbank State Park Peter Mullan, Planning Director, Friends of The High Line Greenway Connie Fishman, Executive Director, Hudson River Park Trust Jeanne DuPont, Rockaway Waterfront Alliance, Queens In 1609, New York’s future waterfront was an arcadian shore of forests, wetlands, beaches, and sand bars, according to Eric Sanderson's book Mannahatta. That landscape is lost forever, but visions of a post-industrial, neo-natural waterfront are longstanding. In 1944, futurists Paul and Percival Goodman proposed that Manhattan "open out toward the water,” lining its gritty waterfront with new parks. They were prescient: today the water’s edge of Manhattan is evolving from a "no-man's-land" into a "highly desirable zone of parks," in the words of writer Phillip Lopate. The newly designated “Manhattan Waterfront Greenway” is cobbled together from many bits and pieces like Battery Park City, Hudson River Park, Riverside Park South, restored Harlem River parks, and tiny Stuyvesant Cove Park––each with its own chronicle of past and present struggles among property owners, community groups, developers, politicians, planners, lawyers, and other stakeholders. Elsewhere in the city, Brooklyn Bridge Park, the Brooklyn Waterfront Greenway, Governors Island, the South Bronx Greenway, Pelham Bay South Waterfront Park, the Bronx River Greenway, and Gateway National Recreation Area are among many waterfront works in progress. The colloquium series will address selected topics and issues relating to what has been achieved and what remains to be done to continue the transformation of New York’s waterfronts.