Dick lived in England. One day in January he said to his wife, "I'm going to fly to New York next week because I've got some work there." "Where are you going to stay there?" his wife asked. "I don't know yet." Dick answered. "Please send me your address from there in a telegram (电报)," his wife said. "All right," Dick answered.

    He flew to New York on January 31st and found a nice hotel in the center of the city. He put his things in his room and then he sent his wife a telegram. He put the address of his hotel in it.

    In the evening he didn't have any work, so he went to a cinema. He came out at nine o'clock and said, "Now I'm going back to my hotel and have a nice dinner."

    He found a taxi (出租车) and the driver said, "Where do you want to go?" But Dick didn't remember the name and address of his hotel.

    "Which hotel are my things in?" he said, "And what am I going to do tonight?" But the driver of the taxi did not know. So Dick got out and went into a post office. There he sent his wife another telegram, and in it he wrote, "Please send me my address at this post office."

    When I was a child, my grandmother Adele took me to museums, restaurants, dances. She showered me gifts from her travels around the world. But I can only remember a book she gave me—one book that, to this day, I have not read. She presented me with her own favorite childhood book: Hans Brinker. My grandmother was happy to share this book with me. She even decorated the title page with her proud writing.

    I tried to read it. I adored reading, and would dive into a new pile of books from the library all at once. But something about Hans Brinker just wouldn't let me in. The story was set in Holland, a long time ago. It felt dull and unfamiliar, even though I was a fan of classics of other times and places. I simply read the first pages over and over. I could not progress.

    Standing on a bookshelf in our living room, the book was like something I avoided. It scolded me for not being interested, for not trying hard enough, for disappointing my grandmother. The book started to fit in, almost forgotten, until Adele asked. Had I read it? Did I like it? Always determined, she wanted to know the answer. I would make some kind of excuse, but feel bad, and open it again, hoping for a new reaction. The book weighed on me.

    Years passed and finally Adele and I both accepted that I would never read Hans Brinker. Eventually I cleared the book from the shelf. The Hans Brinker experience led me to set a rule that I've lived by ever since: Do not ask about a book given as a gift and don't let anything become your barrier. What Adele originally wanted to do is to give book-giving special meaning, but she increased the possibility of the owner to be a disappointment.

    These days, I walk down the steps leading toward the south end of the All England Club in Wimbledon, and still look for the Crow's Nest, a small green observation tower with an outer ladder that I used to climb on for a wide view of the grounds, but which has since been knocked down.

    The Crow's Nest was a particularly useful point, because it allowed a tennis writer to keep track of the action on as many as 10 outside courts at a time. At days end, reporters from different nations would share notes on what they had observed all over the grounds.

    Twenty-seven years later, the press room has touch screens that allow us to watch live videos from any court, and even go back to watch key moments in key matches long after they have finished. You could cover Wimbledon without leaving your seat. But that is a bit like spending all your time ordering room service and looking up fun facts on Wikipedia.

    More than at any other tennis tournament, there is also an appetite for stories that deal with the setting, the history and the traditions.

    If they change the price of the fish tacos (鱼肉卷饼) at the United States Open, it's not a story. If they change the price of the strawberries and cream, the signature treat at Wimbledon. It's time to email your editor using capital letters.

    The new retractable (可伸缩的) roof was put in place in 2009. Until then, you always had to have a rainy-day story in your notebook because there were no guarantees any matches would be played. Now tennis is a sure thing on Centre Court, which has made tennis reporters a bit less creative. But at least it guarantees us daily access to the most atmospheric place in the sport.

    So much has changed, but Centre Court remains true to its original spirit: more a theater than a stadium. Catching that feeling is part of covering Wimbledon, too.

    A young woman carrying a three-year-old child got on a bus. The conductor hurried to give her a warm welcome and then kindly asked the other passengers to make more room for the woman and her child. On seeing this, people were surprised and began to talk. "You know this conductor used to be very rude. Now suddenly he has changed his bad behavior, "said a middle-aged man.

    "Yes, he should be praised and we must write a letter to the company," said a second passenger. "That's right," another lady said, "I wish a newspaper reporter were here so that more people could learn from this conductor.”

    Just then a gentleman who looked like a teacher turned to the conductor and said, "Excuse me, but can I know your name, please? Your excellent service must be praised."

    Before he could open his mouth, the three-year-old child sitting on the young woman's lap interrupted, "I know his name. I call him Dad."

    Many people have long dreamed of being able to fly around as simply as riding a bicycle. Yet the safety and strength of a flying bike was always a big problem. Over the past 10 years, developments in technology have moved the dream of personal flying vehicles closer to reality. Now, two groups of inventors say such vehicles may be available soon.

    The British company Malloy Aeronautics has developed a prototype (原型) of its flying bicycle. Grant Stapleton, marketing sales director of Malloy Aeronautics, says the Hoverbike is able to get in and out of small spaces very quickly." It can be moved across continents very quickly because it can be folded and packed," he adds.

    Mr. Stapleton says safety was the company's main concern. He says the designers solved the safety issue by using overlapping rotors to power the vehicle.

    The company is testing a full-size prototype of the Hoverbike, which will most likely be used first by the police and emergency rescue teams.

    In New Zealand, Martin Aircraft Company is also testing a full-size prototype of its personal flying device, called the Jetpack. It can fly for more than 30 minutes, up to 1, 000 meters high and reach a speed of 74 kilometers per hour.

    Peter Coker is the CEO of Martin Aircraft Company. He said the Jetpack "is built around safety from the start". In his words, "Reliability is the most important element of it. We have safety built into the actual structure itself, very similar to a Formula One racing car.

    The Jetpack uses a gasoline-powered engine that produces two powerful jet streams. Mr. Coker says it also has a parachute that would be used, if there should be an emergency. "It starts to work at very low altitude and actually saves both the aircraft and the pilot," he adds. Mr. Coker says the Jetpack will be ready for sale soon.

    It has been a year since I found out my friend had passed away. I still store his phone number, even though I know calling the number will never reach him again. I feel like if I deleted (删除) his phone number, it would mean he was really gone.

    Over the past few years, we have planned to travel together just to see the dolphins in the sea. However, for some reasons it didn't happen, yet I always took his calls over the years. We shared a lot of interests.

    When I knew that he had been diagnosed (诊断) with a very serious illness and was in hospital, I remembered sending messages to him. I did not receive a message back, so I left a voicemail. A week later, I sent him a message once again. However, I still didn't get a reply. I thought he was busy. During the next several months I was very busy, too. Suddenly, in that mid-summer, I received a short message: "Sorry, Marlynn, He has passed away."

    I was very sad and surprised at the words. I was very sad and regretful. I regretted that I let the months pass without trying again. I worked with many people who had also lost their best friends. The sadness is often unspeakable. There is guilt (内疚), helplessness and sadness that is difficult to put into words.

    Now I try to be grateful for the times and memories we have. I realize the best thing that we can do is value the ones we love.