The private automobile (私家车）has long played an important role in the United States. In fact, it has become a necessary and important part of the American way of life. In 1986, sixty-nine percent of American families owned at least one car, and thirty-eight percent had more than one. By giving workers rapid transportation, the automobile has freed them from having to live near their place of work. This has encouraged the growth of the cities, but it has also led to traffic problems.

    For farm families the automobile is very helpful. It has made it possible for them to travel to town very often for business and for pleasure, and also to transport their children to distant schools.

    Family life has been affected（影响）in various ways. The car helps to keep families together when it is used for picnics, outings, and other shared experiences. However, when teenage children have the use of the car, their parents can't keep an eye on them. There is a great danger if the driver has been drinking alcohol or taking drugs, or showing off by speeding or breaking down traffic laws. Mothers of victims（受害者）of such accidents have formed an organization called MADD (Mothers Against Drunk Driving). These women want to prevent further tragedies (悲剧）. They have worked to encourage the government to limit the youngest drinking age. Students have formed a similar organization, SADD (Students Against Drunk Driving) and are spreading the same message among their friends.

    For many Americans the automobile is a necessity. But for some, it is also a mark of social position and for young people, a sign of becoming an adult. Altogether, cars mean very much to Americans.

    Japan is aging faster than any other nation. By the end of this decade, there will be three retirees for every child under 15 and before long, one in six people will be over 80. Its population will soon be falling by nearly a million people every year and some people predict that, some time in the next century, the last Japanese person will die. Other countries are encouraging immigration to deal with their demographic woes. But not Japan, which is using different ways to reduce pressure put on health care and social services.

    The Toto-made toilet, common in Japanese hotels, can push up to help the elderly. Now Toto is working with Daiwa House, Japan's largest house builder, to equip toilets for retirees. These have medical sensors that measure blood sugar levels, the blood pressure and body fat of the user. The data is emailed to the local GP through a built-in internet device (装置). So make sure you eat your greens and stay regular, or the doctor will be in touch.

    The over-75s account for more than a quarter of the deaths in car accidents on Japanese roads. Toyota is working with Professor Kawashima, who developed brain training games for Nintendo, to create intelligent cars that monitor brain activity in the elderly. Other technologies could also work to keep elderly drivers cautious.

    Japan has twice as many pets as it has children. But real animals are difficult to look after as their owners age. Paro is a furry white baby seal robot which responds to petting by moving its tail and opening and closing its eyes. It shows emotions such as surprise, happiness and anger, and has sold well in nursing homes where it is reported to stimulate (刺激) responses among those with dementia (痴呆).

    Japan's Institute of Physical and Chemical Research has developed Riba, a nursing care robot that can lift the elderly out of bed.

    The summer before my dad died, we moved house. Up until that point, our family had our own space to spread out. Money was tight, so there was no television set, but we owned a turntable on which my dad's records played constantly. Mostly, it played Bob Dylan. Tracks from The Basement Tapes and Desire became an important part of our new life. My brother and I, aged 8 and 10, climbed trees, built hideaways and learned the words of Clothes Line Saga. We would chant over the, lost in our own joy.

    It was January when my dad left us forever because of the cancer. He was 36 going on 37 then, the same age as Dylan. Afterwards, our laughter disappeared, but we kept on playing the records, which became our only ritual of remembrance. The two men became so intertwined in my head, I struggled to tell them apart.

    Dylan was my dad's gift to me. What child wouldn't be fascinated by songs full of pirates and seasick sailors? How did it feel to have No direction home? Farewell, Angelina became my party-piece. I would sing this at church cheese and wines to the assembled audience. A lot of donations were made.

    Growing up, I remained a fan of the music, but I wasn't obsessed with Dylan until one day in early 1995, my brother bought us both tickets to see him play at Brixton Academy. London felt like a long way to go. But finally seeing Dylan step out onto the stage brought a sudden rush of excitement.

    I have seen Dylan a couple of times since. My brother is not around so much these days. But he was up for a visit recently. We passed a happy evening laughing and drinking, while his son, aged nine, performed his party—piece Subterranean Homesick Blues for us. He sang it word-perfect. And so it goes on: Dylan's music as a gift, passed down the generations.

    He looked like a pirate.

    With his handkerchief tied in a knot behind his little nine-year-old head, he looked like a pirate, a sad pirate. The first time little David came to our camp, he was hairless and worn out from medical treatments. He was also very angry.

    Paul Newman's camp counselors (指导老师) were hoping to fill David's days with fun and laughter. But David stayed inside himself, wanting to be alone, or in a corner of the cabin. At this camp for children with life-threatening illnesses, we had seen some pretty tough children worn out by cancer recover full of energy despite their illness. But we saw little progress in David no matter what we tried with him. Five days into the eight-day session saw a quiet, sad little pirate.

    Then something happened on that fifth night. Something at camp that we would call "huge". It was cabin night. That's the time when campers and counselors spend time together in each individual cabin instead of an all-camp activity. Campers love cabin nights because there's always a bedtime snack. On the cabin table that night were bags of potato chips.

    David slowly walked over to the table, leaving his comer to join the rest of us. He took one of the bags of the potato chips and started smashing(弄碎) it with his little fists, as all the other campers looked on in disbelief, I wondered what the cabin counselor would do.

    The college-age volunteer counselor positioned a bag of chips on die table in front of himself, and he, too, started smashing it with his fist. The campers went crazy as everyone ran to the table to get in on the fun of smashing potato chips with their fists.

    Somehow everyone knew, everyone sensed, that anger within him was now being released.

    For the last couple days of the session, David was a different kid. He was a little nine-year-old boy again, trying to fill the hours of each remaining day at camp with as much fun as could be possible.

    Several days after the session, David came back again. This time, there wasn't anything he wouldn't try to fit in to his day. He sure was having a great time at camp. David asked me if I needed an altar(祭坛)boy when I celebrated Mass in the woods. Sure enough, he was my altar boy. I remembered how carefully he listened to me when I talked about death. I said it's only a doorway. You walk through the door and there's the Lord God and behind God a whole line of people waiting to hug you.

    After Mass, he said to me, "Hey Fatha, a door, huh?"

    A couple more days of fun passed and tonight was the talent show. The tradition is that campers and counselors dress up in costumes, and everyone gets a standing applause for singing and dancing or simply just acting like fools on stage.

    The show had begun: lights, camera, action.

    Unfortunately, the only action taking place in our row of seats was little David making his way from counselor to counselor to say an early good-bye to camp. He had become quite ill and had to go to the hospital because of this new crisis.

    When this little nine-year-old pirate stood in front of me, he gave me a hug and a big wet kiss on my cheek. I was crying. He was crying. A whole row of counselors was in tears. After the hug and kiss, he put his hands on my shoulders, and tears still in his eyes, said: "See you on the other side of the door, Fatha."

    She will face the challenges of riding a bike to school or not being able to climb the monkey bars during playtime. But little Ella Peggie, who was born without her left arm, will get an extraordinary opportunity to share a life-changing bond with her new beloved pet, three-legged puppy.

    When her mother, Brooke Hodgson, saw the one-year-old puppy named Snowy, she knew instantly it would be the perfect companion for her one-year-old daughter. “My heart skipped a beat when I saw Snowy online, ”Ms. Hodgson said. It took just three days for the puppy, who recently had surgery to remove a 1eg, to find a new home after she was sent to the animal shelter last week.

    “I knew she was going to be perfect for Ella—they share the same age so they both have a long life of friendship ahead of them. I just know that Snowy is going to increase her confidence when she is growing up. It's going to be great for Ella when she realizes she's different or when she's having a bad day, she will see the resemblance and know that she's not alone. ”

    Ms. Hodgson has been touched by the relationship between the pair since the lively puppy became the latest addition to the family. And she believes the caring puppy will be by Ella's side through the highs and lows of her life. Ms. Hodgson said, “Every morning Snowy looks for Ella first before she runs to anyone else. It's quite a unique link. I'm just thankful that I was able to give her this dog. I just can't wait for them to get even closer. Not many people are able to do this for their children so we're very lucky to have Snowy. I can't even explain how I feel fight now. ”The young mother said Snowy, who was welcomed into the family just a week ago, has been playing a very special part to Ella's life as well as her three-year-old brother Blake and her father, Stewart Peggie.

    Many doors close for those who have ever been in prison for a crime. It can be difficult for former prisoners to reenter society. A number of training programs are aimed at reopening doors for these men and women.

    "Together We Bake" teaches cooking and marketing skills to women who have spent time in prison so they can start new lives. It is a 10-week program which teaches women how to bake and sell cookies. Two friends, Tricia Sabatini and Stephanie Wright, created the program.

    "I have a background in social work and she is an amazing baker," Ms. Wright explains. "We discovered that for this population of women, returning from prison into the community, there aren't a lot of resources for them. So we thought we could combine our passions (激情) and develop this job as a training program. "Stephanie Wright says they started the program earlier this year." We had two classes so far that have graduated. This is our third class. We have eight women currently in this class. We've 16 women graduated in the first two classes."

    Terry Garred is one of the graduates. She says the program helped her turn her life around. Next she hopes to complete her high school studies. She is also working for "Together We Bake" to help other women follow the path she took.

    The program includes classes in which the women talk about their experiences and learn communication and job skills. Thirty-six-year-old Jamie White had spent three years in jail, which made her a little puzzled about her future life back into society. But she found those meeting were very helpful. She learned how to open up, and was just trying to better herself. She gained new skills. She sells baked goods at local markets every weekend now.