The concept of culture has been defined many times, and although no definition has achieved universal acceptance, most of the definitions include three central ideas: that culture is passed on from generation to generation, that a culture represents a ready-made principle for living and for making day-to-day decisions, and, finally, that the components of a culture are accepted by those in the culture as good, and true, and not to be questioned. The eminent anthropologist George Murdock has listed seventy-three items that characterize every known culture, past and present.

    The list begins with Age-grading and Athletic sports, runs to Weaning and Weather Control, and includes on the way such items as Calendar, Fire making, Property Rights, and Tool making. I would submit that even the most extreme advocate of a culture of poverty viewpoint would readily acknowledge that, with respect to almost all of these items, every American, beyond the first generation immigrant, regardless of race or class, is a member of a common culture. We all share pretty much the same sports. Maybe poor kids don't know how to play polo, and rich kids don't spend time with stickball, but we all know baseball, football, and basketball. Despite some misguided efforts to raise minor dialects to the status of separate  tongues, we all, in fact, share the same language.

    There may be differences in diction and usage, but it would be ridiculous to say that all Americans don't speak English. We have the calendar, the law, and large numbers of other cultural items in common. It may well be true that on a few of the seventy-three items there are minor variations between classes, but these kinds of things are really slight variations on a common theme.

    There are other items that show variability, not in relation to class, but in relation to religion and ethnic background — funeral customs and cooking, for example. But if there is one place in America where the melting pot is a reality, it is on the kitchen stove; in the course of one month, half the readers of this sentence have probably eaten pizza, hot pastrami, and chow mein. Specific differences that might be identified as signs of separate cultural identity are relatively insignificant within the general unity of American life; they are cultural commas and semicolons in the paragraphs and pages of American life.

    Yesterday I work up to the sound of music on my couch in my fifth floor apartment downtown. I couldn't possibly tell you what song was playing because my monologue of things to do that day had already begun. My thoughts ranged from what deals needed my attention today to what is the meaning of life. I felt as if it was going to be one of “those days”.

    After taking my son to school and glancing at my calendar, I noticed I was meeting my 85-year-old friend Harry. I remembered that we first met at a glass shop. I needed a new window and he was talking to the store clerk about his glass fireplace insert needing replacement. As I stood behind him in line, I found not how this old man funny and compassionate at the same time. By the end of his discussion I was so entertained that I decided to drum up a conversation with him. That was how our friendship began. I later learned this gentleman was originally from the mid-west and grew up on a farm. At 17, he joined the army and travelled the world until his late 40's. After the retirement, his wife passed away and now he lives alone in his three-bedroom home.

    We met at the appointed time. I promised to take him to lunch anywhere he wanted to go and he said, “I am a simple man; let's go to Taco Bell. Furthermore I don't need a pat on the back because it is only 18 inches away from a kick in the rear.” We both laughed as we got into the car.

    As we pulled into the parking lot of Taco Bell, Harry jumped out of the car and told me, “I have to go into the donut(甜甜圈) shop next door before going to Taco Bell.” Of course I agreed and in we went. He immediately walked in and began having a joke with the owner of the shop in his fashion. They bantered as she gave him a dozen donuts and off we went. I couldn't help but ask him, “What are the donuts for?” He quickly replied, “You will soon see.”

    As we opened the door to Taco Bell, the line was very long. It was lunch time. People were on their cell phones. Babies were crying and the waiters looked stressed and burnt out. Harry and I were waiting in line chatting about nothing until we reached the front of the line. As he walked to the counter, all the waiters began smiling. He placed the box of donuts on the counter and said, “These are for you and other staff.” Instantly, the mood in the restaurant changed. This single act of kindness made the customers, the waiters, the kids and even me take a look internally and ask: when was the last time we did something nice for a stranger?

    What was most amazing to me was earlier that morning I wasn't thrilled with my life. It felt like it was just another day. Watching this gentleman spend 6 dollars on donuts and provide them for the staff in a packed restaurant at the lunch rush hour changed my outlook on life. If you don't believe me, try it yourself. Take the approach in life that you make an effort to do the little things in order to make people feel appreciated on a daily basis. You will see that your life will be better and you will have less of “those days” I was talking about earlier in this article.

    A few years ago, I took a sightseeing trip to Washington, DC. I saw many of our nation's treasures, and I also saw a lot of citizens on the street—unfortunate ones, like beggars and homeless folks.

    Standing outside the Ronald Reagan Center, I heard a voice ask. “Can you help me?” When I turned around, I saw an old blind woman with her hand extended. In a natural reflex (自然反射), I reached into my pocket, pulled out all of my loose change and placed it in her hand without even looking at her. I hated being disturbed by a beggar.

But the blind woman smiled and said: “I don't want your money. I just need help finding the post office.” In an instant, I realized what I had done. I had acted with prejudice (偏见)—I had judged another person simply for what I thought she had to be.

    I hated what I saw in myself. This incident brought back my central belief. It reminded me that I believed in being humble (卑下的), even though I'd lost that belief for a moment.

    The thing I had forgotten about myself is that I am an immigrant (移民). I left Honduras and arrived in the US at the age of 15. I started my new life with two suitcases, my brother, my sister and a strong mother. Through the years, I have been a dish washer, roofer, mechanic, cashier and pizza delivery driver, among many other humble jobs. Eventually, I became a network engineer.

In my own life, I have experienced many acts of prejudice. I remember a time at age 17—I was busboy (餐馆工), and I heard a father tell his little boy that if he did not do well in school, he would end up like me. I have also seen the same treatment of family and friends, so I know what it's like, and I should have known better.

    But now, living my American middle-class lifestyle, it is too easy to forget my past, to forget who I am and where I have been, and to lose sight of where I want to go. The blind woman cured me of my blindness. She reminded me of my belief in being humble, and to always keep my eyes and heart open.

    By the way, I helped that lady to the post office. And in writing this essay, I hope to thank her for the priceless lesson she gave me.

What Cocktail Parties Teach Us

    You're at a party. Music is playing. Glasses are clinking. Dozens of conversations are driving up the decibel (分贝) level. Yet among all those distractions, you can tune your attention to just one voice from many. This ability is what researchers call the “cocktail-party effect”.

    Scientists at the University of California in San Francisco have found where that sound-editing process occurs in the brain — in the auditory cortex (听觉皮层) just behind the ear, not in areas of higher thought. The auditory cortex boosts some sounds and turns down others so that when the signal reaches the higher brain, “it's as if only one person was speaking alone,” says investigator Edward Chang.

    These findings, published in the journal Nature last week, explain why people aren't very good at multitasking — our brains are wired for “selective attention” and can focus on only one thing at a time. That inborn ability has helped humans survive in a world buzzing with visual and auditory stimulation (刺激). But we keep trying to push the limits with multitasking, sometimes with tragic (悲剧的) consequences. Drivers talking on cellphones, for example, are four times as likely to get into traffic accidents as those who aren't.

    Many of those accidents are due to “inattentional blindness”, in which people can, in effect, turn a blind eye to things they aren't focusing on. The more attention a task demands, the less attention we can pay to other things in our field of vision. Images land on our retinas (视网膜) and are either boosted or played down in the visual cortex before being passed to the brain, just as the auditory cortex filters sounds, as shown in the Nature study last week. “It's a push-pull relationship — the more we focus on one thing, the less we can focus on others,” says Diane M. Beck, an associate professor of psychology at the University of Illinois.

    Studies over the past decade at the University of Utah show that drivers talking on hands-free cellphones are just as influenced as those on hands-held phones because it is the conversation, not the device, that is distracting their attention. Those talking on any kind of cellphone react more slowly and miss more traffic signals than other motorists.

    Some people can train themselves to pay extra attention to things that are important — like police officers learn to scan crowds for faces and conductors can listen for individual instruments within the orchestra as a whole. Many more think they can effectively multitask, but are actually shifting their attention rapidly between two things and not getting the full effect of either, experts say.

    What's fiercer than a lion? The honey badger (蜜獾), one of the toughest mammals in Africa and western Asia. Honey badgers stand less than a foot high. They are only a couple feet long. They weigh just over 20 pounds. Yet they have a reputation for toughness that is far greater than their size.

    So what makes the honey badger so tough? They have speed, but so do many animals. They aren't stronger than lions, so how do they stop them? The thing that sets the honey badge apart is their skin. Their skin is thick and tough. Arrows, spears, and bites from other animals can rarely go through it. Not only is their skin thick and tough, it is also loose. This allows them to twist and turn to fight back while another animal is attacking them.

    Honey badgers have long, sharp claws. These claws are good for attacking and even better for digging. Honey badgers are some of nature's most skilled diggers. They can dig a nine-foot tunnel into hard ground in about 10 minutes. They love to catch a meal by digging up the holes of frogs and snakes. They also use their digging skills to create their homes. They live in small holes in the ground and defend them fiercely.

    You don't get a reputation like the honey badger by running from danger. The honey badger is a fearless and tireless fighter. They will attack any creature that threatens them, man included. Because of the honey badger's reputation, most predators (食肉动物) avoid them. Some animals use the honey badger's reputation to their advantage. Adult cheetahs (猎豹) have spotted coats, but their kittens have silver manes (鬃毛) and look like honey badgers. Some scientists believe that their coloring tricks predators into avoiding them.

    You might be wondering: "If honey badgers are so tough, how did they get a name that makes them sound like a piece of candy?" The answer makes sense. Since honey badgers have such thick skin, bees rarely harm them. So honey badgers love to attack beehives(蜂窝). Honey badgers run after honey so aggressively that beekeepers in Africa have to use electric fencing to hold them back. There's nothing sweet about that.

    When asked about her childhood in the documentary Alive Inside, a 90-year-old woman with dementia(痴呆) replies, "I've forgotten so much." Filmmaker Michael Rossato-Bennett then plays music from her past for her. “That's Louis Armstrong,” she says. “He's singing When the Saints Go Marching In and it takes me back to my school days.” She then recalls exact details from her life.

Why does it happen? Music tends to accompany events that arouse emotions or otherwise make strong impressions on us — such as weddings and graduations. These kinds of experiences form strong memories, and the music and memories likely become intertwined(紧密相连) in our neural(神经的) networks, according to Julene Johnson, a professor at the University of California. Movements, such as dancing, also often pair with our experience of music, which can help form memories. Even many years later, hearing the music can bring back memories of these long-past events.

    As Alive Inside shows, music has this power even for many people with dementia. Researchers note that the brain areas that process and remember music are typically less damaged by dementia than other areas, and they think it may explain the phenomenon.

    They also pay attention to elderly people with dementia, especially those in nursing homes. "It's possible those long-term memories are still there," Johnson says, “but people just have a harder time accessing them because they're in a strange place and there are not a lot of circumstances in which someone could pull out those memories.”

    Johnson also notes that music is not universally useful for all people with dementia since there are some people with dementia whose brain area that recognizes music is damaged.

    Despite music's apparent benefits, few studies have explored its influence on memory recall in people with dementia. “It's really an untapped area,” Johnson says. Petr Janata is one researcher investigating the topic of music and memory. He says that scientists still do not have the answers for why and how music reawakens memories in people with dementia, but this phenomenon is real and it's just a matter of time before it's fully borne out by scientific research.