Відео

Dayadeee!!

Thanks for the Bob Markey comment. 15 minutes is a tough time commitment. Maybe split Episode #2 into three fives?

Excellent show… Gracie Burns to the wonderful Anthem sung by Grand Master….. I like the lesson on Small Business “plans”…. Tina is adorable… the Rahway Taste event looks amazing!…. Keep up the great broadcasts …. It’s like watching a variety show from years gone by… kudos to Saccos ,a Peterstown landmark.

I enjoy your wisdom Joe

Great job Joe, this could be the start of something big 🎉. Keep up the amazing work

I loved this show, great advice "get outside of your comfort zone" - I always loved that marty robbins song, nice work

Loved your comment on the pronunciation of “niche.”

Wonderful place to get your hair color and cut. They always make me feel at home and look fab!

Hello to yous guys

I can't believe you got me to sit and listen to you sing:)

Congratulations Joe🎉

Joe , great show!!… I like the variety of business advise, mixed with your personal milestones and the cameo by beautiful Tina..the Air Conditioning ad was perfect and your song is highly entertaining…keep up the fun and entertaining broadcasts., sincerely Brother Nick..PS the “ Dungerees “ story was priceless.

Congratulations on 40th Anniversary

Makes me miss St. Rocco's Festa BIG TIME! Sacco's steak sandwiches, Barone's ravioli and lasagne, the zeppole stand on the corner of Christine and 2nd Ave, free beer because everyone knew me...

What was the qualification to get picked for this?

Wow. I was playing the trumpet in the band.

Saw this after seeing the Nigro kids birthday video. I had just been telling my kids about watching this on VHS and how it's about time I try to make the dough! Thanks for preserving all these memories

Nice job, Joe.

It's too bad you didn't get grandma on film this is classic stuff thanks Joe

On est vraiment, vraiment, vraiment loin de la classe et du prestige de Vienne !

Joe: Grew up around the Burg. Worked at Aladden Shade and blind and use to walk through the Saturday market all the time. Please post any video showing the greatness and uniqueness of the Saturday market. They were out there no matter what the weather was like.

Thank you Joe. I found you looking for a new place to get my hair done. I found this video about Bella Capelli Salon and made a appointment.

frc vun.fyi

The emergence of Bob Rixon's WFMU "MuseBeam" radio show in 2021 retrieves DJ Poet Rix, one of the great NJ poets emerging in the 1980s as host to future unborn poets introducing them to Michigan workingman David Cope who gives what sounds like slightly sped-up but remarkable reading of early poems first books of poetry praised by Allen Ginsberg as mind "movies."

The recent standoff between India and China took place in Jammu and Kashmir, where the Indian Army invaded in 1947 and has killed hundreds of thousands of Kashmiris and the Kashmiris have been asking the Indian Army to leave for 70 years. The UN security council resolutions 91, 98, 96, 80, 47, 38, 39, 51, 122, 123, 126, 307 unscr.com/en/resolutions/doc/98 asked for the Indian army to leave and for a referendum to be held where the people could decide their own future so as to avoid world war 3. India initially agreed but then preventing this from happening because most of the Kashmiris wanted to join Pakistan. Since the referendum under the UN resolutions 91, 98, 96, 80, 47, 38, 39, 51, 122, 123, 126, 307 unscr.com/en/resolutions/doc/98 never occurred. Jammu and Kashmir remained an independent country under international law and on the UN Maps: www.un.org/Depts/Cartographic/map/profile/kashmir.pdf www.un.org/Depts/Cartographic/map/profile/SouthAsia.pdf www.un.org/Depts/Cartographic/map/profile/world.pdf www.un.org/Depts/Cartographic/map/dpko/UNMOGIP.pdf As you could see India is outside Jammu and Kashmir. The Indian occupation is totally illegal under international law and the Indian Army needs to leave to let there be peace in Jammu and Kashmir and in Asia. Since 1948 the UN has been asking the Indian Army to leave and for a referendum to be held there, where the people could decide their own future so as to avoid world war 3. In August 2019 the whole population of the Indian side Jammu and Kashmir was put under house arrest by the Indian Army and 750,000 Indian troops were stationed infront of each house, the internet and the phone lines were cut and the media expelled. So the people asked the world for help and Trump offered to mediate but Modi refused

Beautiful Nick, thank you for todays session of The Bridge

Thank you Nick, for blessing us with your knowledge

Perfect Nick

Great job Nick. Here's some video n pics ua-cam.com/video/j6IRefwTiqY/v-deo.html

great job Nick, glad everyone had a wonderful day

It was my pleasure to deliver her Mail for years Mrs Cianfano lived next door

Awesome Joe thank you brings back alot of good memories playing in that Park...

Wow you definitely gotta check out StartYourBrandNow dot com

Mrs. Leonard!

Great Videos! Keep them coming Joe.

Love these Joe!

The good old days!

Kaddish By Allen Ginsberg For Naomi Ginsberg, 1894-1956 I Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village. downtown Manhattan, clear winter noon, and I’ve been up all night, talking, talking, reading the Kaddish aloud, listening to Ray Charles blues shout blind on the phonograph the rhythm the rhythm-and your memory in my head three years after-And read Adonais’ last triumphant stanzas aloud-wept, realizing how we suffer- And how Death is that remedy all singers dream of, sing, remember, prophesy as in the Hebrew Anthem, or the Buddhist Book of Answers-and my own imagination of a withered leaf-at dawn- Dreaming back thru life, Your time-and mine accelerating toward Apocalypse, the final moment-the flower burning in the Day-and what comes after, looking back on the mind itself that saw an American city a flash away, and the great dream of Me or China, or you and a phantom Russia, or a crumpled bed that never existed- like a poem in the dark-escaped back to Oblivion- No more to say, and nothing to weep for but the Beings in the Dream, trapped in its disappearance, sighing, screaming with it, buying and selling pieces of phantom, worshipping each other, worshipping the God included in it all-longing or inevitability?-while it lasts, a Vision-anything more? It leaps about me, as I go out and walk the street, look back over my shoulder, Seventh Avenue, the battlements of window office buildings shouldering each other high, under a cloud, tall as the sky an instant-and the sky above-an old blue place. or down the Avenue to the south, to-as I walk toward the Lower East Side-where you walked 50 years ago, little girl-from Russia, eating the first poisonous tomatoes of America-frightened on the dock- then struggling in the crowds of Orchard Street toward what?-toward Newark- toward candy store, first home-made sodas of the century, hand-churned ice cream in backroom on musty brownfloor boards- Toward education marriage nervous breakdown, operation, teaching school, and learning to be mad, in a dream-what is this life? Toward the Key in the window-and the great Key lays its head of light on top of Manhattan, and over the floor, and lays down on the sidewalk-in a single vast beam, moving, as I walk down First toward the Yiddish Theater-and the place of poverty you knew, and I know, but without caring now-Strange to have moved thru Paterson, and the West, and Europe and here again, with the cries of Spaniards now in the doorstoops doors and dark boys on the street, fire escapes old as you -Tho you’re not old now, that’s left here with me- Myself, anyhow, maybe as old as the universe-and I guess that dies with us-enough to cancel all that comes-What came is gone forever every time- That’s good! That leaves it open for no regret-no fear radiators, lacklove, torture even toothache in the end- Though while it comes it is a lion that eats the soul-and the lamb, the soul, in us, alas, offering itself in sacrifice to change’s fierce hunger-hair and teeth-and the roar of bonepain, skull bare, break rib, rot-skin, braintricked Implacability. Ai! ai! we do worse! We are in a fix! And you’re out, Death let you out, Death had the Mercy, you’re done with your century, done with God, done with the path thru it-Done with yourself at last-Pure-Back to the Babe dark before your Father, before us all-before the world- There, rest. No more suffering for you. I know where you’ve gone, it’s good. No more flowers in the summer fields of New York, no joy now, no more fear of Louis, and no more of his sweetness and glasses, his high school decades, debts, loves, frightened telephone calls, conception beds, relatives, hands- No more of sister Elanor,.-she gone before you-we kept it secret-you killed her-or she killed herself to bear with you-an arthritic heart-But Death’s killed you both-No matter- Nor your memory of your mother, 1915 tears in silent movies weeks and weeks-forgetting, aggrieve watching Marie Dressler address humanity, Chaplin dance in youth, or Boris Godunov, Chaliapin’s at the Met, hailing his voice of a weeping Czar-by standing room with Elanor & Max-watching also the Capitalists take seats in Orchestra, white furs, diamonds, with the YPSL’s hitch-hiking thru Pennsylvania, in black baggy gym skirts pants, photograph of 4 girls holding each other round the waste, and laughing eye, too coy, virginal solitude of 1920 all girls grown old, or dead, now, and that long hair in the grave-lucky to have husbands later- You made it-I came too-Eugene my brother before (still grieving now and will gream on to his last stiff hand, as he goes thru his cancer-or kill-later perhaps-soon he will think-) And it’s the last moment I remember, which I see them all, thru myself, now-tho not you I didn’t foresee what you felt-what more hideous gape of bad mouth came first-to you-and were you prepared? To go where? In that Dark-that-in that God? a radiance? A Lord in the Void? Like an eye in the black cloud in a dream? Adonoi at last, with you? Beyond my remembrance! Incapable to guess! Not merely the yellow skull in the grave, or a box of worm dust, and a stained ribbon-Deathshead with Halo? can you believe it? Is it only the sun that shines once for the mind, only the flash of existence, than none ever was? Nothing beyond what we have-what you had-that so pitiful-yet Triumph, to have been here, and changed, like a tree, broken, or flower-fed to the ground-but mad, with its petals, colored, thinking Great Universe, shaken, cut in the head, leaf stript, hid in an egg crate hospital, cloth wrapped, sore-freaked in the moon brain, Naughtless. No flower like that flower, which knew itself in the garden, and fought the knife-lost Cut down by an idiot Snowman’s icy-even in the Spring-strange ghost thought-some Death-Sharp icicle in his hand-crowned with old roses-a dog for his eyes-cock of a sweatshop-heart of electric irons. All the accumulations of life, that wear us out-clocks, bodies, consciousness, shoes, breasts-begotten sons-your Communism-‘Paranoia’ into hospitals. You once kicked Elanor in the leg, she died of heart failure later. You of stroke. Asleep? within a year, the two of you, sisters in death. Is Elanor happy? Max grieves alive in an office on Lower Broadway, lone large mustache over midnight Accountings, not sure. l His life passes-as he sees-and what does he doubt now? Still dream of making money, or that might have made money, hired nurse, had children, found even your Immortality, Naomi? I’ll see him soon. Now I’ve got to cut through-to talk to you-as I didn’t when you had a mouth. Forever. And we’re bound for that, Forever-like Emily Dickinson’s horses-headed to the End. They know the way-These Steeds-run faster than we think-it’s our own life they cross-and take with them. Magnificent, mourned no more, marred of heart, mind behind, married dreamed, mortal changed-Ass and face done with murder. In the world, given, flower maddened, made no Utopia, shut under pine, almed in Earth, balmed in Lone, Jehovah, accept. Nameless, One Faced, Forever beyond me, beginningless, endless, Father in death. Tho I am not there for this Prophecy, I am unmarried, I’m hymnless, I’m Heavenless, headless in blisshood I would still adore Thee, Heaven, after Death, only One blessed in Nothingness, not light or darkness, Dayless Eternity- Take this, this Psalm, from me, burst from my hand in a day, some of my Time, now given to Nothing-to praise Thee-But Death This is the end, the redemption from Wilderness, way for the Wonderer, House sought for All, black handkerchief washed clean by weeping-page beyond Psalm-Last change of mine and Naomi-to God’s perfect Darkness-Death, stay thy phantoms!

wow brings me back

Fabulous video, thank you so much for sharing

It seems like yesterday that Aunt Mary was cooking in her kitchen. We got some good tips for when we make ravioli on New Year's. Thanks for posting.

The Freeman Chandler family was there.

Are the tryouts still available?

I know Joe and I've had the honor or meeting this wonderful woman, God Bless her

hahaha Good job guys

What a treat! Thanks, Joe!!!