One fine afternoon I was walking along Fifth Avenue when I remembered that it was necessary to buy a pair of socks. I turned into the first sock shop that caught my eye, and a boy clerk who could not have been more than 17 years old came forward.

    “What can I do for you, sir?”

    “I wish to buy a pair of socks.”

    His eyes glowed. “Did you know that you had come into the best place in the world to buy socks?” I had not been aware of that.

    “Come with me,” said the boy happily. He began to haul (用力拖) down from the shelves box after box.

    “Hold on, boy, I am going to buy only one pair!”

    “I know that,” said he, “but I want you to see how beautiful these are. Aren't they wonderful?” There was on his face an expression of joy, as if he were showing to me the mysteries of his religion.

    “My friend,” said I, “if this is not just the enthusiasm (热情) that comes from novelty (新鲜), if you can keep up this day after day, in ten years you will own every sock in the United States.”

    In many shops the customer has to wait for someone to serve him. And when finally some clerk does notice you, you are made to feel as if you were disturbing him. He displays no interest either in you or in the goods he is paid to sell.

    Yet possibly that very clerk who is now so cold began his career with enthusiasm. As time goes by, the enthusiasm is gradually gone; his only pleasures were found outside of working hours. He became a mechanical (机械的), not inspired, salesman.

    I have observed such change in the lives of so many people in so many occupations that I have come to the conclusion that the fastest road to failure is to do things mechanically.

    If you want to convince the boss you deserve a pay rise or promotion, the solution could be simple—eat the same food as they do. Psychologists have discovered managers are much more likely to instantly trust us if we choose the same dishes as them.

    During experiments, discussions over wages and work conditions were much more successful if both sides chose to snack on the same treats. And shoppers were much more likely to buy a product advertised on TV by someone eating a similar food to them at the time.

    The reason is thought to be so-called similarity attraction theory — where people tend to like others who have similar tastes or habits to themselves. But this is believed to be one of the first studies highlighting the role of food in this relationship. Researchers at Chicago University in the US conducted a series of experiments to examine food's role in earning trust.

    In a test, participants were told to watch TV — where someone pretending to be a member of the public praised a certain product. The volunteers were given Kit Kat(巧克力) bars to nibble（轻咬）, while the TV people ate either a Kit Kat or grapes as they talked.

    The results showed viewers were much more likely to express an interest in buying the product if the TV showed the other person eating a Kit Kat too.

    The researchers added, ―Although similarity in food consumption is not a sign of whether two people will get along, we find consumers treat this as such. They feel more trusting of those who consume as they do. It means people can immediately begin to feel friendship and develop a bond, leading to smoother transactions from the start.

    Harley Street psychologist Dr Lucy Atcheson said it was already known that wearing similar clothes could instantly create trust. But this was the first report that food had the same effect. She said, This is really interesting. It makes sense as people feel they have common ground and can trust the other person. That means negotiations are more likely to be successful.

    As the Chinese Mid-Autumn Festival approaches, mooncakes are turning up all over China, from traditional teashops to Starbucks counters. The holiday is one of China's four most important festivals, and in the weeks before the date arrives, top hotels get into the spirit with lavish(奢华) treats in lovely packaging. Traditionally, the cookie-sized round pastry(馅饼) has a rich thick filling usually made from red-bean or lotus-seed paste and covered by a thin crust. It may also contain yolks from salted duck eggs, integrating a beautiful savory tinge into the sugary taste. Fillings and crusts have become more diverse over time, especially in the hands of skilled pastry chefs. The mooncakes in Chinese culture represent homesickness, and the top crust of each moon-shaped pastry is generally imprinted with the Chinese characters for longevity or harmony.

    This year, the fancy gift boxes that have long driven the mooncake trade are particularly striking and rich with tradition.

    For example, the Fairmont Peace Hotel in Shanghai, built in 1929 and a magnet for Hollywood celebrities in the 1930s, has prepared a selection of mooncake gift boxes with designs inspired by the beauty and elegance of the hotel's famous art deco style. The simplest box of four pieces (red-bean paste, creamy custard, plain cheese, green-bean paste) is 198 yuan($29.64), while more lavish selections of five or six pieces, including mooncakes with egg yolk, run up to 338 yuan for a box.

    Beijing's Nuo Hotel, meanwhile, has created Ming Dynasty (1368－1644) inspired mooncake gift packs based on the design of porcelain vases in the hotel lobby, with the essence of landscape painting using Zhang Dai's poetic passages to show the peaceful harmony of man and nature. The box of six is 158 yuan, and includes mooncakes ranging from cheese mango to charcoal burning fragrant Pu'er tea and white lotus with egg yolk. A box of eight cakes of different flavors is 228 yuan.

    For some people, music is no fun at all. About four percent of the population is what scientists call "amusic." People who are amusic are born without the ability to appreciate music or recognize musical notes (音调). Amusic people often cannot tell the difference between two-songs. Amusics can only hear the difference between two notes if they are far apart on the musical scale.

    As a result, songs sound like noise to an amusic. Many amusics compare the sound of music to pieces of metal hitting each other. Life can be hard for amusics. Their ability to enjoy music sets them apart from others. It can be difficult for other people to identify with their condition. In fact, most people cannot begin to understand what it feels like to be amusic. Just going to a restaurant or a shopping mall can be uncomfortable or even painful. That is why many amusics intentionally stay away from places where there is music. However, this can result in withdrawal and social isolation. "I used to hate parties," says Margaret, a seventy-year-old woman who only recently discovered that she was amusic. By studying people like Margaret, scientists are finally learning how to identify this unusual condition.

    Scientists say that the brains of amusics are different from the brains of people who can appreciate music. The difference is complicated, and it doesn't involve defective hearing. Amusics can understand other nonmusical sounds well. They also have no problems understanding ordinary speech. Scientists compare amusics to people who just can't sec certain colors.

    Many amusics are happy when their condition is finally diagnosed (诊断). For years, Margaret felt embarrassed about her problem with music. Now she knows that she is not alone. There is a name for her condition. That makes it easier for her to explain. "When people invite me to a concert, I just say, 'No thanks. I'm amusic,'" says Margaret. "I just wish I had learned to say that when I was seventeen and not seventy."

    There are billions of people on this planet, and many of us love to eat meat. Can the demand be filled in a sustainable(可持续的) and affordable way? A bunch of businessmen are not only optimistic but are working to make this happen sooner than you may think.

    The environmental effects caused by meat consumption (食用)—waste, animal treatment, health problems and even the greenhouse gas effects that are potentially caused by methane gas produced by cows—have given rise to a number of startups(新兴公司)looking to develop meats in different ways.

    For example, San Francisco-based Memphis Meats is developing cell-based meats in its labs without requiring any animals. Israel's Future Meat Technologies is doing the same by producing fat and muscle cells that are being tested by chefs in Jerusalem. All of these companies use special processes to harvest cells from animals and grow them in a lab.

    But don't worry if you're not a meat lover. Startups such as Jet Eat, which is also based in Israel, are working on food products grown in labs that are plant-based and replicate (复制) meats using natural elements while still keeping flavor, consistency and the "overall sensory experience", according to a report on NoCamels. Jet Eat, which was founded in early 2018, aims to 3D-print their lab-grown products by 2020.

    As you can imagine, there are plenty of barriers facing the industry. Educating the public is a big one. Another controversial issue is the labeling of the products. Recently both the USDA and the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) announced that they will begin jointly controlling the new "cell-based meat" category.

    Many of us have concerns about the challenges facing future generations as our global population increases and the earth's natural resources decreases. The good news is that there are plenty of businessmen around the world—like those producing lab-grown meats—who are working to solve some of these problems and make a little money in the process. Nothing wrong with that.

    One of my favorite hobbies is exchanging old-fashioned, paper-with-a-stamp-on-it postcards with random strangers around the world.

    The Postcrossing Project was created by Paulo Magalhaes in 2005. He liked getting mails—especially postcards. He thought others did, too—but how could he connect with them? That's when he came up with the idea of an online platform (postcrossing.com): There, postcard lovers like me can sign up to send a postcard to someone who has registered online, and receive a postcard in return.

    Along with a randomly selected address, participants get a unique code to put on the postcard. When the postcard arrives, the recipient registers that code with the site, which then causes the sender's address to be given to another postcrosser in turn. In practice, this means that for nearly every postcard I send (a few get lost in the mail) I get one back. And since I never know who will send me a card or where in the world they live, every trip to the mailbox holds the potential for a wonderful surprise.

    Privacy-conscious Americans might worry about sharing their address with strangers overseas. But postcrossers are friendly, polite, respectful folks—in more than 450 cards exchanged, I've yet to have a bad experience.

    On days when the international news is depressing, postcrossing is my comfort. There's nothing like getting a card from a child in China just learning to write in English, or a grandmother in Belarus describing her most recent gardening success to remind me that we truly are members of one global family, far more similar than we are different.

    It seems like such a small thing to send out a postcard. But as travel and communication technology continue to shrink the world, it's important to remember that it isn't just for diplomats and politicians to represent our country anymore. All of us have the power—and perhaps the responsibility—to be ambassadors, to show the best of your country to the world.

    And it's good to know that what you need to accomplish this is not necessarily complicated or expensive. It can be as simple as a postcard.