Question: Greg Tenorly drove the familiar route from the church to his music studio, studying the homes along the way. He wondered about the families who lived in each one. Like that two-story brick on the corner. What secrets were they hiding? Was the husband abusive? Did a teenager use drugs? Was the family nearly bankrupt? How could anyone know? It was better not to know. The mind can only handle so many problems at one time. He wondered where Troy and Cynthia Blockerman lived. Greg had appeared at the courthouse that morning as part of a jury pool, only to be released. He and the rest of his group would have to return the next morning. He hoped they would not need him. The church would pay his regular part-time salary while he was serving on a jury, but any private lessons he missed would be money lost. Greg's red 1965 Pontiac Bonneville convertible always turned heads as he drove through the small town. He had purchased it two months earlier from a career Navy man down in Longview who had babied the thing for years. It spent most of its life in the man's garage, coming out only when he was on leave. Most trips were to the car wash or the Pontiac dealer for scheduled maintenance. Greg gladly paid $4,000 for it. The sailor called him the very next day and tried to buy it back. He said it was like losing a member of the family. Greg felt bad, but not bad enough to give up the car. How could a 40-year-old car have only 93,000 miles on it? It was dazzling. His little studio was near the town square, nestled between Coreyville Hardware and Susie's Sewing Box. Occasionally he and a student could hear a pipe wrench or hammer hitting the floor on the hardware side. But things were always quiet from Susie's side. At least the soundproofing he had installed kept his neighbors from hearing his students. You can't teach music without hearing both beautiful sounds and sour notes. What is Greg going to do after jurt duty is over? A. Teach a student. B. not enough information C. HAve dinner with Susie D. Drive to the dealer
Answer: A

Question: A confession: I quietly love flying. This year, I've done 163,581 miles of it. I love that when you fly a lot, the airport social media staff say 'hello' on Twitter when you arrive and the cabin crew on your home route (or even on the Brisbane-Dubai non-stop route) recognise you from last time. I like getting great service, and see so many things about systems-thinking that work well in airlines, that I'm happy to forgive small indiscrepancies when they occur. All that said, flying strangles our planet as much as eating too much red meat, and for many, many reasons, I've wanted to stop flying quite so much, while not restricting the spread and growth of the ideas from our firm, NoTosh. I'm quite sure that nobody reading this blog really cares about how much I travel, but keeping an annual count on it has become a new year habit. When I started working at Channel 4, and then continuing when I created NoTosh, I wanted to keep track of what seemed like an interminable number of miles on the road and in the air. By 2012, 2013 and last year, I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever be able to get the number of miles down when they seemed to represent even more trips to the moon and back each and every year. When you run a company based in Edinburgh with a great team living in Melbourne, you could easily spend your life on a plane - one flying to Melbourne feels better than two or more flying to Edinburgh. Indeed, in 2012, 2013 and 2014 it felt like I really did spend my life on a plane, as I went to the moon and back in my annual travel, with anything up to seven trips a year to Australia. What is probably true about the author? A. not enough information B. they went to the moon C. they work in media D. they work as airline staff
Answer: C

Question: Nothing I can think of. I've unwittingly embarrassed my daughter by stopping by my daughter's place too often to drop things off, I guess. I guess I embarrassed my daughter when she was living with her boyfriend by stopping by with healthy food and favorites groceries and other things I thought she needed and might like. The boyfriend always told me the groceries were a help. My daughter complained she already had too many clothes and if I tried to surprise her with something new. I think my husband and I embarrass our daughter now practically no matter what we do just because we're parents and maybe because we're older in our 60's and too happy to see her and too eager to please and we inadvertently treat our daughter like she is still a kid although she will be 22. I've never had a deliberate favorite thing to do except maybe by accident when I used to share too many photos of the cats when I used to be on FB? Parents can't help but embarrass their children beyond a certain age maybe? I can picture if we had an in the ground pool and my husband and I were continually doing silly moves and cannon ball jumping in I think or even simply lazing around in ridiculous color and style too teeny bathing suits for our age that too would embarrass my daughter. When push comes to shove parents like myself don't have to be too inventive or think much to come up with things they might do that embarrass their kids. My daughter told me she could not stand to go to the movies with me because I used to cry during movies. She never forgets one time I got emotional during a movie "Spirit" my husband and I took her to when she was little. I tried to hide this but my husband blurted out "You aren't crying, are you" like it was the dumbest thing to do and for the entire movie going audience to hear. Sheesh! How does the daughter's boyfriend feel about the narrator? A. Angry. B. not enough information C. Grateful. D. Embarrassed.
Answer:
C