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BeyondGeography

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Gender: Male
Hometown: NY
Member since: Tue Dec 30, 2003, 12:41 AM
Number of posts: 35,874

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Prince Charles shows what the US and UK will never get from Donald and Boris

Posted by BeyondGeography | Fri Apr 3, 2020, 05:33 PM (12 replies)

Bill Withers, influential soul singer behind Ain't No Sunshine, dies aged 81

Source: The Guardian

Bill Withers, the influential US soul singer who wrote Lean on Me, Ain't No Sunshine and Lovely Day has died aged 81 of heart complications, according to a statement from his family.

Withers wrote and recorded several other major hits including Use Me and Just the Two of Us. He won three Grammy awards and entered the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2015.

The statement reads:

We are devastated by the loss of our beloved, devoted husband and father. A solitary man with a heart driven to connect to the world at large, with his poetry and music, he spoke honestly to people and connected them to each other. As private a life as he lived close to intimate family and friends, his music forever belongs to the world. In this difficult time, we pray his music offers comfort and entertainment as fans hold tight to loved ones.

Born William Harrison Withers Jr in 1938, he faced a difficult childhood in Slab Fork, West Virginia. A stutter held him back from making friends, and, after his father died when Bill was 13, his grandmother helped to raise him. Withers would write a tribute to her with the song Grandma's Hands from his 1971 debut album Just As I Am: "Grandma's hands / Used to issue out a warning / She'd say, 'Billy don't you run so fast / Might fall on a piece of glass / Might be snakes there in that grass.'" The intro was memorably sampled by Blackstreet for their 1996 R&B classic, No Diggity.

Read more: https://www.theguardian.com/music/2020/apr/03/bill-withers-influential-soul-singer-dies-aged-81?CMP=Share_iOSApp_Other



A memorable visit to the USC football team culminating with Lean On Me:

Posted by BeyondGeography | Fri Apr 3, 2020, 10:26 AM (22 replies)

Janice Preschel, Teaneck activist who ran food pantry from her hospital bed, dies of coronavirus

Janice Preschel, a tireless community volunteer who founded the Helping Hands Food Pantry in Teaneck, died Monday at Holy Name Medical Center of complications of the coronavirus. She was 60.

Preschel was known by many in Teaneck because of her widespread community outreach. She was a three-term president of the Teaneck Rotary and an active member of Temple Emeth and served on the township’s Social Services Advisory Board.

Even from her hospital bed, Preschel was arranging with pantry volunteers to give extra food to families in need during the coronavirus crisis and making plans to donate gift certificates from local restaurants to ICU nurses at Holy Name through the Rotary.

... Five years ago, she was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder that took her sight, but she continued her work as director of the pantry, raising money and collecting food for hundreds of families in need.

When she was awarded the Matthew Feldman Community Service Award in 2015, she credited her volunteerism and the support of the community with aiding in her recovery.

"I'm not doing everything I did a year ago. I'm doing less, and it takes me longer, but volunteering has definitely helped in my recovery," she told the Teaneck Suburbanite, part of the USA TODAY NETWORK New Jersey. "Just as it takes a village to raise a child, it really takes a community to help you get over a debilitating illness. I've been so blessed with the support I've had."

https://twitter.com/GovMurphy/status/1245396943507009537
https://www.google.com/amp/s/amp.northjersey.com/amp/5103971002


Posted by BeyondGeography | Thu Apr 2, 2020, 09:32 AM (1 replies)

The Life and Death of Juan Sanabria, One of New York City's First Coronavirus Victims

At 860 Grand Concourse, a residential apartment building in the Bronx, the doorman’s post is just inside the front door, on a landing between two flights of stairs. One of them leads up to the offices of a dentist and a lawyer, who, along with several physicians, rent commercial space. The other leads past two pairs of gold-painted columns into the main lobby, where an elevator services seven floors with a hundred and eleven apartments. Tuesday through Saturday, between eight in the morning and five in the evening, tenants coming up or down from the lobby could expect a greeting from a trim, punctilious man with close-cropped hair. He wore a navy-blue uniform that hung loosely off his narrow shoulders. His name was Juan Sanabria.

There was an art to Sanabria’s salutations. Dana Frishkorn, who’s lived in the building for three and a half years, appreciated that he called her by her first name when she entered, and never failed to tell her “Take care” when she left. Yet somehow Sanabria knew that Anthony Tucker, who has spent five years in the building, preferred to be called by his last name. “Hey, Tuck,” Sanabria would say, extending his hand for a fist bump. When Tony Chen, who runs a boutique tour company and lives on the seventh floor, limped into the building one morning, addled by plantar fasciitis, Sanabria showed him a foot stretch that helped. On another afternoon, when a tenant showed up at the front door with a large couch to take up to his apartment, even though the building’s rules mandated the use of a side door, Sanabria stood watch to make sure a meddlesome neighbor didn’t wander over.

Uncharacteristically, Sanabria wasn’t around the last week of February. His eighty-two-year-old mother, with whom he shared an apartment on Ogden Avenue, was suffering from emphysema; he’d been taking her to a nearby hospital. When word got around the building that Sanabria’s mother was ill, no one was surprised to learn that he was by her side. “It was who he was,” Jimmy Montalvo, one of the other doormen, told me. Montalvo and Sanabria were neighbors—Montalvo got his job at the building through Sanabria, three years ago—and frequently had breakfast together at their corner bodega; Sanabria was always bringing food back for his mother, Montalvo said. “He took good care of her.” Even when Sanabria was away from 860 Grand Concourse, during a break or on his days off, he gave the impression that he was never far. James Tirado, the youngest and newest doorman on staff, used to get calls and texts from Sanabria, checking up on him. “How’s the day going?” Sanabria would ask. “Is everything going O.K. for you?”

By the time his mother’s health had improved, and Sanabria returned to work, on March 3rd, he was beginning to feel ill himself...

https://www.newyorker.com/news/postscript/the-life-and-death-of-juan-sanabria-one-of-new-york-citys-first-coronavirus-victims


Posted by BeyondGeography | Wed Apr 1, 2020, 01:45 PM (2 replies)

In case you didn't understand, Italian authorities want you to stay the f**k home

Posted by BeyondGeography | Tue Mar 24, 2020, 09:32 AM (1 replies)

Sibelius Symphony No. 5 - III. Finale

Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra, Esa-Pekka Salonen

Posted by BeyondGeography | Sun Mar 22, 2020, 02:17 PM (0 replies)

Rachel Maddow's tribute to Larry Edgeworth

Posted by BeyondGeography | Fri Mar 20, 2020, 10:57 PM (1 replies)

Bernie is "assessing"

Which is good.

Posted by BeyondGeography | Wed Mar 18, 2020, 08:45 AM (23 replies)

That's The Way God Planned It - Billy Preston

Posted by BeyondGeography | Sat Mar 14, 2020, 06:49 PM (0 replies)

Biden tells 2A extremist he's full of shit

Posted by BeyondGeography | Tue Mar 10, 2020, 11:06 AM (74 replies)
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