My friend BJ Gallagher told me a great story recently, about her own experience with resentment (愤恨). She once worked as the training manager for a large newspaper, where she found the corporate culture extremely frustrating. The company was a hundred years old and their past success ha d blinded them to the need for change. Finally, after butting heads with several senior executives (主管) many times, she left the company. But she found that she hadn't left her resentment, frustration, and anger behind when she resigned.

    “I finally decided to write about my experiences and my feelings at the newspaper. I wanted to be rid of that company and those people, once and for all. So I wrote and I wrote. It wasn't just a story that poured out; it was a whole book! We called it A peacock in the Land of Penguins. I was the peacock and those newspaper executives were the penguins.”

    “It took me several more years to finally get over my negative emotions. Through a lot of soul-searching and reflection, I finally was able to let go of my resentment. I came to see that there was nothing personal in the way they treated me, and they were good people doing what they thought best for the company. I was the one who had made it personal. I thought they were making my life miserable on purpose.”

    “Finally, the time came when I decided to make amends (弥补) for the sharp, angry things I had said about the company. I invited my former boss to dinner and made my apology. It was a great healing process for me. I finally felt free of the resentment that had been eating me up.”

    “What was the final outcome?” I asked her.

    “Gratitude,” she replied. “Not only wasn't I resentful any more, I was grateful to the company. If I hadn't had those painful experiences, I would never have written a book. And the book became hugely successful – now published in 21 languages; it transformed my business.”

    Americans are worried about new technology. They are concerned that machines. Including robots, will take over work now done by humans. These findings come from a new report by the Pew Research Center of Washington DC.

    About 75 percent of Americans questioned by Pew said automation will increase income inequality between the rich and the middle class and the poor. And 64 percent of people expect automation to be so common in America that people will face difficulty finding things to do with their lives.

    Some of the concerns about technology come from a distrust about whether machines will always make the right decision. Many Americans believe humans have better judgment in dealing with complex matters. One example is selecting a person for a job. Three quarters of Americans said they would not want to apply for a job that uses a computer program to choose the most qualified person.

    Most Americans want the government to limit automation, For example, 87 percent support a requirement that all driverless vehicles have a human in the driver s scat who can take control when needed. And 85 percent want to limit machines to mostly doing jobs that are dangerous or unhealthy for humans. And only 25 percent expect more jobs to come from automation. Pew said.

    Mark Zuckerberg, the co-founder of Facebook, spoke last May to graduating seniors from Harvard University in Massachusetts, His talk centered on the uncertain future facing young people. “Our generation will have to deal with tens of millions of jobs replaced by automation like self-driving cars and trucks,” Zuckerberg told the graduates,

    Zuckerberg said young people will have to find projects that will bring both jobs and direct benefits to the people of the world. He said in his speech that 300,000 people worked to put a man on the moon, and millions of people built, the Hoover Dam as well as other great projects over the last 100 years.

    Podcasts (播客)

    The B S. Report

    Designed for the sports fan with a sense of humor, the B.S. Report is hosted by the sportswriter Bill Simmons. Simmons show is in very loose and free form and it's not uncommon for him to go almost a whole show without even mentioning sports.

    Wait, Wait…… Don't Tell Me

    One of the most popular Programs on National Public Radio, Wait. Wait... Don't Tell Me is now available as a podcast. The show is a news program in the form of a game show. Each week a group of humorists and writers join host Peter Sagal in Chicago, where they are quizzed on the weeks most important and funny news stories. Listeners also get to call in to play different news-related games for a prize

    The Moth

    The Moth is a weekly podcast run by a nonprofit art organization. The show is made up of recordings of “true stories told before a live audience without notes”. Each week, the group releases short 10-20 minute tales told by people from all walks of life. Past Presenters have included writers, comedians, scientists, and even New York City police officers.

    Film spotting

    Film spotting is a weekly podcast and is a must-listen for any movie fan. The show is focused on movie reviews, but hosts Adam Kempenaar and Matty Robinson do more than just tell their listeners which new movie is worth seeing. They also discuss and examine the film as an art form. The how doesn't just focus on current movies, either, as the hosts frequently discuss old films as part of theme marathons.

    Even before my father left us, my mother had to go back to work to support our family. Once I came out of the kitchen, complaining, "Mum, I can't peel (去皮)potatoes. I have only one hand. "

    Mum never looked up from sewing. "You get yourself into that kitchen and peel those potatoes," she told me. "And don't ever use that as an excuse for anything again!"

    In the second grade, our teacher lined up my class on the playground and had each of us race across the monkey bars, swinging from one high steel rod to the next. When it was my turn, I shook my head. Some kids behind me laughed, and I went home crying.

    That night I told Mum about it. She hugged me, and I saw her determined look. The next afternoon, she took me back to school. At the deserted playground, Mum looked carefully at the bars.

    "Now, pull up with your right arm," she advised. She stood by as I struggled to lift myself with my right hand until I could get the bar with my other elbow (月寸）.Day after day we practiced, and she praised me for every rung (梯级）I reached.

    I'll never forget the next time, crossing the rungs； I looked down at the kids who were standing with their mouths open.

    One night, after a dance at my new junior high, I lay in bed crying. I could hear Mum came into my room. "Mum," I said, weeping, "None of the boys would dance with me."

    For a long time, I didn't hear anything. Then she said, "Oh, honey, someday you'll be beating those boys off with a bat." Her voice was slight and cracking. I looked out from my covers to see tears running down her cheeks.

    Then I knew how much she suffered on my behalf. She had never let me see her tears.

    No one knew Prince Edward Street as well as Pierre Dupin. He had delivered milk to the families on the street for thirty years. For the past fifteen years a large white horse named Joseph pulled his milk wagon. Joseph was a gentle horse with beautiful spirit shining out of its eyes, so Pierre named him after Saint Joseph.

    Every morning at five, Pierre arrived at the milk company's stables to find Joseph waiting for him, Pierre would call, “Good morning, my old friend.”, as he climbed into his seat, while Joseph turned his head toward the driver. And the two would go proudly down the street. Without any order from Pierre, the wagon would roll down three streets. Then it turned right for two streets, before turning left to Saint Catherine Street. The horse finally stopped at the first house on Prince Edward Street. There, Joseph would wait perhaps thirty seconds for Pierre to get down off his seat and put a bottle of milk at the front door.

    Pierre knew every one of the forty families that got milk. The cooks knew that Pierre could not read or write; so, instead of leaving orders in an empty milk bottle, they simply sang out if they needed an extra bottle.

    Pierre also had a wonderful memory. When he arrived at the stable he always remembered to tell Jacques, the foreman(领班) of the stables, “The Pacquins took an extra bottle this morning; the Lemoines bought a pint of cream …” Most of the drivers had to make out the weekly bills and collect the money. But Jacques, liking Pierre, never asked him to do this.

    One day the president of the milk company came to inspect the early morning milk deliveries. Jacques pointed to Pierre and said: ”See how the horse listens and how he turns his head toward Pierre? See the look in that horse's eyes? You know, I think those two share a secret. I have often felt it. He is getting old. Maybe he ought to be given a rest, and a small pension.”

    “But of course,” the president laughed. “He has been on this job now for thirty years. All who know him love him. Tell him it is time he rested. He will get his pay every week as before.”

    But Pierre refused to leave his job. He said his life would be nothing if he could not drive Joseph every day. “We are two old men,” he said to Jacques. “Let us wear out together. When Joseph is ready to leave, then I too will do so.”

    Then one cold morning Jacques had terrible news for Pierre. Jacques said, ”Pierre, your horse, Joseph, didn't wake up. He was very old, Pierre.” Jacques said softly. “He is over in his stall, looking very peaceful. Go over and see him.” Pierre took one step forward, then turned. “No ... no ... I cannot see Joseph again. You ..., you don't understand, Jacques.”

    For years Pierre had worn a large heavy cap that came down low over his eyes. It kept out the bitter cold wind. Now, Jacques looked into Pierre's eyes and he saw something that shocked him. He saw a dead, lifeless look in them.

    “Take the day off, Pierre,” Jacques said. Pierre walked to the corner and stepped into the street. There was a warning shout from the driver of a big truck ... there was the screech(尖锐的刹车声) of rubber tires as the truck tried to stop. But Pierre heard nothing.

    Five minutes later a doctor said, “He's dead ..., killed instantly.”

    “I couldn't help it,” the truck driver said. “He walked in front of my truck. He never saw it, I guess. Why, he walked as though he were blind.”

    The doctor bent down. “Blind？Of course, this man has been blind for five years.”  He turned to Jacques, “Didn't you know he was blind？”

    “No ...no ...” Jacques said softly. “None of us knew. Only one ... only one knew－a friend of his, named Joseph ... It was a secret, I think, just between those two.”

    Maybe it's because it was our first purchase as homeowners. The salesman must have spotted just how green we were, so he began persuading. And soon he led us to a classic leather chair. All these years later, I remember he used words like rich and handsome, the thing every living room needed.

    We believed him. So we bought that chair — just less than $100, a great deal in the 1970s for a young couple!

    How we loved that chair! It always occupied a place of honor in our various living rooms, moving with us from our first tiny house to our beloved new house.

    Somehow, conversations were better on that chair, and life was more fun around it. Three daughters spilled their secrets on it. Old friends seemed to be attracted by it on those wonderful occasions. Crazy as it sounds, that leather chair seemed to have — well, powers. All for good.

    At first, we didn't really care that the leather was showing signs of wear or that it had lost its sheen (光泽). But in our most recent move, when the chair was moved in our new living room, it suddenly looked terribly lonely sitting close to newly painted walls and a couple of shiny new tables.

    My husband and I tried but still we couldn't ignore the rough spots. Our chair had a skin disease. Even our adult kids raised eyebrows, urging us to at least remove the chair to some dark comer of the room. Neither of us could imagine such a retirement for it.

    So we had an inspired idea. We'd call in an upholsterer (修理工) to give our old chair a whole new life. Our friend Joe studied the chair and then took out a simple leather conditioner. He explained that although it wouldn't work miracles, it would definitely get our weary chair looking younger again. It certainly doesn't look new, but its seat and back are shining, and some of its deeper wrinkles have lightened.

    Best of all, it's back in the living room, looking like a wise old friend to the furniture around it. And, yes, there it will stay.

    Because some things, like some people, just deserve a happy old age.