Podcasts about South Street Seaport

Send us a textIn this episode, Kelly is joined by Marco Abbiati! He is a New York City Christmas tour business owner, he is from Italy, lives in Luxembourg and is a New York city enthusiast.Join them as they talk about how they met. Marco tells Kelly about how he started his social media platform. Seeing that there could be space to fill with pages about New York City during the holiday season. They then talk about the weather. They tell you how you should pack for your trip, Kelly gives the secret to not getting sick, and Jae talks about New York City Christmases of the past and his experience with having a White Christmas in New York.Marco remembers the exact day he asked Kelly to join him on his business venture of creating the Dyker Heights Christmas lights tours! They talk about how those tours came to be and Kelly's excitement doing them every year.  They talk about the Christmas tree lighting ceremonies: Tips for the best ways to experience them, good information on what to do if you want to experience the lighting without all of the crowds, and the best places to go to see all of the amazing trees that New York City has to offer. Kelly tells Marco where he likes to take people during his tours to see the best Christmas decorations and displays. Seeing the Rockettes, The South Street Seaport, And all of the Manhattan Christmas markets.Finally, Kelly asks Marco about the holiday tours that he runs. They tell listeners what they can expect if they book the tour for their trip. They give times for the tour, the length, exactly where they are going and for how long. Kelly talks about how they've become a family and how much he loves giving facts about New York City during Christmas as he's on the bus traveling to and from Brooklyn.Marco tells Kelly about his new tour, "My Christmas Morning in New York" It takes place in Manhattan and ends with an exclusive reservation at Papillon, which is famous for it's Christmas decorations. But above all else; Marco Abbiatti is a New Yorker!Kelly Kopp's Social Media:@NewYorkCityKoppMarco Abbiatti's Social Media:@MyChristmasinnewyorkcity

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Learn more at TheCityLife.org --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

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.

Улица кораблей в Манхэттене. Музей морского порта – South Street Seaport. Бруклинская битва за Нью-Йорк и дом-свидетель войны за Независимость США. Бесплатная помощь как художественный эксперимент. И звездные клиенты сапожника из Минска. Смотрите проект «Нью-Йорк New York»

Dexter and co reach the dungeons under South Street Seaport where Mo TippyToes is said to be locked up. But what they find is quite a surprise ...

Randall Lane, Forbes magazine's editor (who also happens to be my son), takes you from the skyscrapers of Manhattan to the boroughs of Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx and Staten Island. Our footsteps echo across Manhattan's revitalized South Street Seaport, and ascend the innovative High Line. We wander through the cultural richness of Brooklyn and Queens, sharing stories and insights that capture each borough's uniqueness,  from Brooklyn's Coney Island and the Russian-influenced Brighton Beach, to Queens' international food and cultural pleasures.We describe the lush Bronx Botanical Garden and the maritime charm of City Island,  enjoying the culinary Italian authenticity of Arthur Avenue. And there's a free ride on the Staten Island ferry!The World Trade Center Memorial reminds us  of the city's ability to rise from adversity, through Rand's special final memory. Join us for a journey not just through New York's five boroughs, but through the city that never sleeps, always dreams, and forever stands tall._____Randall Lane lives and works in Manhattan. He is Editor of Forbes magazine and Chief Content Officer of Forbes media._____Podcast host Lea Lane  has traveled to over 100 countries, and  has written nine books, including the award-winning Places I Remember  (Kirkus Reviews star rating, and  'one of the top 100 Indie books of  the year'). She has contributed to many guidebooks and has written thousands of travel articles. _____Our award-winning travel podcast, Places I Remember with Lea Lane, has produced over 100 travel episodes! New podcast episodes drop on the first of the month, on Apple, Spotify, and  wherever you listen. Check them out.Travel videos of each 2024 podcast -- with creative, added graphics -- now drop on YouTube the 15th of every month!Please consider sharing, following, rating and reviewing us.  And leave your travel questions and comments on our YouTube videos— Lea will answer.****************************************Website: https://placesirememberlealane.com Travel Blog: forbes.com X (Twitter):@lealane Instagram: PlacesIRememberLeaLane Facebook: Places I Remember with Lea LaneYouTube Channel: Places I Remember: Travel Talk with Lea Lane 

Let's start today's exploration of Manhattan in Central Park. Then we will make our way down to Carnegie Hall, and the New York Public Library to take some photos with the lions. After a pop-in to the WInter Market at Bryant Park let's jump on the subway and check out the South Street Seaport.

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This weeks guest is Melanie Paradin who joins us from New York City. Melanie is the North American brand ambassador for Antique Pelinkovac. With over 10 years of experience in the service industry, Melanie's journey from self-taught bartender to creating her own menus showcases her dedication and passion to the industry. Melanie began her career at hotel bars like The Roxy and Ace Hotel, and has also played a pivotal role in opening projects such as The Little Shop in South Street Seaport, a speakeasy that has garnered recognition in publications such as Vogue and Forbes for its curated flavor profiles and inviting atmosphere. Melanie's Croatian heritage has uniquely positioned her as a fitting brand ambassador for Antique, as she combines her cultural background with the vibrant bar scene of New York City, her hometown. Links @antiqueherballiquer @mmmelanie @sugarrunbar @babylonsistersbar @the_industry_podcast email us:  info@theindustrypodcast.club Podcast Artwork by Zak Hannah zakhannah.co

Greetings all and happy holidays. On this week's episode we travel to the South Street Seaport for some high flying balloon adventures, then through Staten Island and finally to the mall at 6:00 AM to get those phony Black Friday deals. Also, a review of No Hard Feelings and Are You There God, It's Me Margaret. AND, finally, as usual the New York Jets ruin Thanksgiving and a subscription to the Asbury Park Press that continues to send me last week's newspaper. Plenty to complain about an an all new Juskow in the City adventure. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

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Hey everyone, James Scully here. I wanted to let you know I've got a walking tour on Sunday 10/22/2023 with The New York Adventure Club in conjunction with Burning Gotham, the audio soap opera set in 1835 NYC that I developed. Burning Gotham was a 2022 official Tribeca Film Festival audio selection. Included here is a link where you can buy tickets. — https://www.nyadventureclub.com/event/exploring-1830s-new-york-from-the-great-fire-to-south-street-seaport-registration-726888130967/ Join us as we explore lower Manhattan and the notable sights and scandals of 1830s New York, with a close look at 1835 and how a single year forever changed New York City in big ways. Highlights Include: A trip to important landmarks in the neighborhood dating back to the 1830s including Fraunces Tavern, Bowling Green, South Street Seaport, Stone Street and others. Topics Covered will include: Why the US was on the verge of war with France, why there was no clean running water in New York, and the greatest hoax of the 19th century, The full scoop surrounding the Great Fire of 1835, which destroyed everything in Manhattan's chief merchant district Our experience will conclude on Stone Street with the opportunity to grab a pint or bite. Hope to see you there!

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Reggaefest.    I've attended many Reggaefest parties, including a couple of Yacth Fetes and 2022's Blaze party by South Street Seaport. Epic League and CJ Milan have taken this party on the road with stops in Washington DC, Atlanta, Los Angeles, Boston, and Toronto. I believe in this brand and can see a future where it goes to Latin America and Europe—potentially even a multi-day cruise. My favorite thing about the party is the format. The party is called Reggaefest, and they mostly play Dancehall. There's also Soca, Afrobeats, a little Reggaeton, and Ampiano as of this year. They played Hip-Hop in the early ReggaeFest days(a few years ago), but I prefer they don't. Many other parties call themselves Reggae this and Reggae that, but they play close to an hour of hip-hop—false advertising on their part. I also love that there are hardly any performances. Great DJs and great music keep us dancing all night long. Having attended this party for some time and spending my hard-earned money to do so, I have a couple of criticisms. New York Reggaefest has gotten stale.   Their fabulous DJ lineup keeps the vibes going, but they play the same songs at each party. A playlist that changes very little. Another criticism is the same venues all the time. Stage 48 is the main culprit. As a fan, I'd like to see a guest DJ at the monthly parties and different changes of venues. Let's do one month in SOBs and one in Irving Plaza—a day party at Knockdown Center or the Elsewhere space in Brooklyn. I wish the Reggaefest team continued success, but I haven't attended as many of their parties this year because of this stale feeling. I'd love to continue going, but please give me more variety.   Thoughts? Comments? Do so on the blog here.  Rate, like, leave a review! If you've enjoyed this episode, please support this podcast by doing any, all your shopping through my affiliate link: AMAZON: http://amzn.to/2dRu3IM or DONATE/TIP here https://bit.ly/2LD1mwy SUBSCRIBE Everywhere HERE https://bit.ly/3tkjIbV  Let's keep in touch, sign up for the email list here https://bit.ly/42QhWBi 

Impressive reformation.

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The Fields team chats with domestic farming entrepreneur and nutritionist Mary Wetherill about her company, Green Food Solutions. They set up farms in urban buildings using Tower Gardens (hydroponic growing towers) and conduct farmer trainings. Mary's urban-agriculture business grew out of the Square Roots vertical farming accelerator in Brooklyn, but then quickly led to a new farm on a rooftop in the Bronx. From there, Mary's team explored a whole new business model: to be a “vertical farming training company” that also provides equipment (turn-key solutions) to new growers. She always wanted to focus on connecting folks with food, and she was suspicious of many claims made by new commercial vertical farms.Today, Green Food Solutions runs “farms as amenities”—hydroponic farms within and atop residential buildings—from New Jersey to Tо̄kyо̄. Through training programs and consulting on new urban farms, especially with new professional growers, Mary hopes to empower a whole new local food system. This is a passion-driven, breathless, sometimes controversial conversation about the present and future of vertical farming.Heritage Radio Network is a listener supported nonprofit podcast network. Support Fields by becoming a member!Fields is Powered by Simplecast.

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Creedence Clearwater Revival has weathered a tumultuous trajectory, including with lead singer/songwriter John Fogerty. We delve into the history of "Bad Moon Rising," Fogerty's storied and stormy history with getting his due with record labels, our memory of seeing Fogerty play at South Street Seaport, and of course, what John thinks about "bathroom on the right." We also chat about the live shows we've recently seen, including a great show from Meute at Los Angeles' The Wiltern. Enjoying the podcast? Please leave us a 5-star review on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or Goodpods! Find us at @stephaniestalktunes on Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok; @stephaniestalk on Twitter; email at stephaniestalktunes@gmail.com; and stephaniestalktunes.com for all episodes, merch, and more. Proud member of Pantheon Podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Creedence Clearwater Revival has weathered a tumultuous trajectory, including with lead singer/songwriter John Fogerty. We delve into the history of "Bad Moon Rising," Fogerty's storied and stormy history with getting his due with record labels, our memory of seeing Fogerty play at South Street Seaport, and of course, what John thinks about "bathroom on the right." We also chat about the live shows we've recently seen, including a great show from Meute at Los Angeles' The Wiltern. Enjoying the podcast? Please leave us a 5-star review on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or Goodpods! Find us at @stephaniestalktunes on Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok; @stephaniestalk on Twitter; email at stephaniestalktunes@gmail.com; and stephaniestalktunes.com for all episodes, merch, and more. Proud member of Pantheon Podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Learn more at TheCityLife.org --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

Learn more at TheCityLife.org --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

Learn more at TheCityLife.org --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

Learn more at TheCityLife.org --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

Learn more at TheCityLife.org --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

Learn more at TheCityLife.org --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

Learn more at TheCityLife.org --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

Learn more at TheCityLife.org --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

Learn more at TheCityLife.org --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

Learn more at TheCityLife.org --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

Learn more at TheCityLife.org --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

Learn more at TheCityLife.org --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/citylifeorg/support

In the 19th century, the Fulton Fish Market in downtown Manhattan was to seafood what the Chicago stock yards were to the meat industry, the primary place where Americans got fish for their dinner tables.Over the decades it went from a retail market to a wholesale business, distributing fish across the country – although as you'll hear, that was a bit tricky in the days before modern refrigeration.Today its former home is known by a more familiar name -- the South Street Seaport, a historical district that has undergone some incredible changes in just the past half century. The fish market, once an awkward staple of this growing tourist destination, moved to the Bronx in 2005. But you can still find ghosts of the old market along these historic stone streets.And you can still find delicious seafood at the Seaport. And the Tin Building has taken dining in the neighborhood to the next level, literally in the architectural remains of a former fish market building.On this show, we'll be joined by professor Jonathan H. Rees, author of the new book The Fulton Fish Market: A History. By the end of our conversation today, we're confident that you'll never look at the fish section of your local grocer in the same way.MORE SHOWS SIMILAR TO THIS ONE:-- South Street Seaport-- Has Jack the Ripper Come to Town?-- The High Line-- Essex Street Market  Visit our website for more stories and images from New York City History.

The Ringer's Bill Simmons and Van Lathan are survivors living in New York City, and they will be at the South Street Seaport everyday at midday to rewatch the 2007 postapocalyptic action thriller ‘I Am Legend' starring Will Smith and Alice Braga. Producer: Craig Horlbeck and Isaiah Blakely Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

This week we have a special Wednesday episode of "Pop Culture Mondays... On Thursdays" just in time for the holiday. Brooke is joined by Josie Naughton, the co-founder and CEO of humanitarian aid organization Choose Love, who is visiting Los Angeles from London. Brooke and Josie talk about the return of Zaddy Iger to Disney and their favorite meme maybe of all time, Space Karen, aka Elon Musk's new name. They talk about TikTok's sexy nerd, Kevin, who has made millions of hearts flutter with his enticing eyes. Brooke and Josie also discuss all of the amazing things Choose Love is doing this holiday season to support refugees and displaced people around the world, including the opening of its pop-up shop in New York's South Street Seaport. Please go check it out if you're in NYC! And last but not least, Choose Love is the charity partner of the new Netflix film “The Swimmers,” coming out on Thanksgiving day, which tells the most heartwarming, incredible story and which you all must watch!  Pop Culture Mondays Newsletter: https://medium.com/popculturemondays  Brooke's Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/brooke/  Brooke's Twitter: https://twitter.com/brooke   Brooke's TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@brookehammerling   Potato's Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/potato/  Choose Love Website: https://choose.love/ Choose Love Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/chooselove/ Choose Love Twitter: https://twitter.com/chooselove Josie's Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/josie_catface/   Kara Swisher interview with Bob Iger at Code 2022: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L22u--9C6zE   Space Karen https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2020/11/17/space-karen-elon-musk/   TikTok Kevin https://www.tiktok.com/@strangek3vin/video/7166682461911485738 https://www.tiktok.com/@strangek3vin/video/7164845053339290922    NY Times Article:   https://www.nytimes.com/2018/11/30/business/gifts-refugees-new-york.html?smid=nytcore-ios-share&referringSource=articleShare

Looking at a hopefully post-pandemic New York from all different angles—the vibe-drenched streets of Dimes Square, a festival stage in Chelsea, Jean-Georges's lastest masterwork in the South Street Seaport, and the moments after a could-have-been-worse car crash on the West Side Highway—Dave's offering up some predictions of what's next for his hometown. Then, to round things out, Chris and Noelle tag in for a whirlwind MOIF, covering such timeless topics as driving snacks, post-apocalyptic In-N-Outs, National Yorkshire Pudding Day, Dutch babies, and the beauty of Kidz Bop K-pop. Hosts: Dave Chang and Chris Ying Guest: Noelle Cornelio Producer: Sasha Ashall Additional Production: Jordan Bass and Lala Rasor Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Today on the podcast, I sync up up with Neal Harden, the Executive Chef at AbcV, one of my fave restaurants here in NYC. Neal is also Chief of Plant Based Development for Jean-Georges. Located on the boarder of Flatiron & Union Square, ABCV opened in 2017 with the pioneering concept of pairing innovative delicious plant-based vegetarian and vegan cuisine with an elevated high end dining experience, brought to life by the super talented team of Jean-Georges Vongericthen, ABC Carpet & Home's Paulette Cole and Chef Neal Harden. During our conversation Neal and I sync up about the inspiration behind the incredible plant-based vegetarian and vegan cuisine, how Neal's career as a chef began, the groups newest restaurants at The Tin Building in NYC's South Street Seaport, and of course I get the scoop on the exercise and workouts that fuel Neal for success. P.S. My fave dishes include: Dosas with avocado, microgreens and cashew yogurt Whole roasted cauliflower, turmeric tahini, date molasses, pomegranate, red zhug, fresh herbs, pistachio Beluga lentils sautéed in black vinegar and aromatic chili oil, lemon braised fingerling yam, radish & cilantro stems. There is also a full bar with and organic and and biodynamic wine and locally crafted spirits, non-alcoholic beverages, smoothies, juices, and Kombucha. CONNECT AbcV on Instagram Neal Harden on Instagram Marni On The Move Instagram, Facebook, TikTok, LinkedIn, or YouTube Marni Salup on Instagram and Spotify OFFERS AG1 by Athletic Greens: Get 5 free travel packs and a year's supply of vitamin D with your first purchase at AthleticGreens.com/MarniOnTheMove InsideTracker: Get 20% percent off today at InsideTracker.com/marnionthemove SUPPORT THE PODCAST Leave us a review on Apple. It's easy, scroll through the episode list on your podcast app, click on five stars, click on leave a review, and share what you love about the conversations you're listening to. Tell your friends to what you love on social. Screenshot or share directly from our stories the episode you're listening to, tag us and the guests, and use our new Marni on the Move Giphy! SUBSCRIBE TO OUR NEWSLETTER Sign up for our weekly newsletter, The Download for Marni on the Move updates, exclusive offers, invites to events, and exciting news!  

Meet my friend Jason Naylor, a celebrated and creative artist, designer, and author who lives his life in Brooklyn through the beautiful lens of his electric color palette. His style and humble demeanor are contagious and uplifting with the messages he conveys of love and positivity. After earning a BFA in graphic design from Brigham Young University, he moved to NYC to immerse himself into the life, color, and magic of New York. Beginning his professional career working in the Creative Department of M·A·C Cosmetics is where he learned about the business of art and design, and developed his taste for spreading life and color into any and every project he could get his hands on. Six years later, Jason set out to start spreading his own message into the world. Jason's work has received global recognition, including the Golden Novum Design Award and two CLIO Bronze medals. It has been featured in numerous publications and blogs, and he has been featured on HGTV and the Discovery Channel. In 2018, Jason was named by BUMBLE as one of the 100 Most Inspiring New Yorkers, and his upbeat, colorful creations have found partnership with a range of brands such as Coach, Pepsi, Guess, XBOX and Maybelline. Undeniably, Jason has the innate ability to create beautiful street art on different walls in New York City that uplift and illuminate the trajectory of the community that occupies that space. Watching Jason in action at the South Street Seaport for his "You Are Not Alone" mural, I was smitten with the vibe and passion of his work and the community that came to support the project! Thank you Jason for being on the episode! Absolutely loved chatting with you! Thank you for sharing your heart and hope for beautiful lights of positivity and kindness! The world surely needs your large specs of beautiful color to unite the many voices and communities that are not represented! Continue to shine your beautiful and gorgeous light of strength, kindness, and positivity! Cannot wait to be apart of any and all projects! You can follow Jason on Instagram @jasonnaylor, and you can also find his book, Live Life Colorfully, online at jasonnaylor.nyc/livelifecolorfully or on Instagram @livelifecolorfully. Please join our community and follow us on: Instagram: @coming_fromtheheartpodcast Twitter: @cfthpodcast Facebook: Coming From the Heart Podcast https://linktr.ee/coming_fromtheheartpodcast Please subscribe, rate, review, & share with the ones closest to your hearts! Shout out to our amazing sound engineer Alex Wiederock (@ajwiede on Instagram) for editing the podcast! Also, shout out to Xixuan Hei for the original and beautiful soundtrack she composed (@xixuan_hei on Instagram). --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/comingfromtheheartpodcast/message

Lured Up Podcast 226 Record Date - 7/13/2022 Publish Date - 7/14/2022   This audio was recorded live on Twitch! Check out our YouTube for the VoD!   We begin with a recap of the Anniversary Event and the positive reaction we saw from the community. With July being dominated with GO Fest, the Anniversary Event was a perfect way to set up the back half of the month.    We are glad that Starly Community Day's group bonus will not include Staravia spawns and instead just turn 3x Catch XP into 4x Catch XP! Make sure you come to NYC to meet up with Ken at the South Street Seaport for some swag and PvP Battles!   Moltres is returning next week so we put together a Raid Guide and Battle Party to get you set up. All of this leads into the biggest weekend of the year for US Trainers, GO Fest Seattle! We can not wait to see everyone at the event and look forward to making memories together!   Anniversary Event - https://bit.ly/LU225Anniversary July Content - https://bit.ly/LU225JulyContent  Starly Community Day - https://bit.ly/LU225StarlyCD  Community Day Activations - https://bit.ly/LU226CD Moltres Raid Guide - https://bit.ly/LU226Moltres GO Hub - https://bit.ly/LU226MoltresHub   Support the show by shopping at TCGPlayer.com using this link - https://bit.ly/TCGPlayerAffiliate    Pokémon Professor Network Merch Store - https://bit.ly/PPNMerchStore    luredup@pokemonprofessor.com    Inappropriate Voicemail, Text, and Picture Line - 732-835-8639    https://linktr.ee/PokemonProfessorNetwork    Hosts Ken Pescatore Adam Tuttle   Writer and Producer Ken Pescatore   Executive Producer  Paul Bhatt   Show music provided by GameChops and licensed through Creative Commons   ▾ FOLLOW GAMECHOPS ▾ http://instagram.com/GameChops http://twitter.com/GameChops http://soundcloud.com/GameChops http://facebook.com/GameChops http://youtube.com/GameChops http://www.gamechops.com   Intro Music Lake Verity (Drum & Bass Remix)  Tetracase GameChops - Ultraball http://gamechops.com/ultraball/ https://soundcloud.com/tetracase  https://soundcloud.com/MegaFlare0   Break Music National Park Mikel & GameChops GameChops - Poké & Chill http://smarturl.it/pokechill https://twitter.com/mikel_beats   Outro Music Vast Poni Canyon CG5 & GlitchxCity (Future Bass Remix) GameChops - Ultraball http://gamechops.com/ultraball/  http://soundcloud.com/cg5-beats https://soundcloud.com/glitchxcity Pokémon And All Respective Names are Trademark and © of Nintendo 1996-2021 Pokémon GO is Trademark and © of Niantic, Inc.Lured Up and the Pokémon Professor Network are not affiliated with Niantic Inc., The Pokémon Company, Game Freak or Nintendo.   #pokemon #pokemongo #podcast