Q: "That's Glenn Miller," my father said. "But it can't be." He had the back of the hospital bed cranked upright, the lower lid of his left eye creeping up in a warning signal I'd learned to recognize as a child. My older sister Ann had settled deep in the recliner, and she glared at me too, blaming me for winding him up. The jam box sat on the rolling tray table and my father was working the remote as he talked, backing up my newly burned CD and letting it spin forward to play a few seconds of low fidelity trombone solo. "You know the tune, of course," he said. "'King Porter Stomp.'" Those childhood years of listening to him play Glenn Miller on the console phonograph were finally paying off. "He muffed the notes the same way on the Victor version." "So why can't it be Miller?" I asked. "He wouldn't have played with a rabble like that." The backup musicians teetered on the edge of chaos, playing with an abandon somewhere between Dixieland and bebop. "They sound drunk." My father had a major emotional investment in Miller. He and my mother had danced to the Miller band at Glen Island Casino on Long Island Sound in the summer of 1942, when they were both sixteen. That signature sound of clarinet and four saxes was forever tied up for him with first love and the early, idealistic months of the war. But there was a better reason why it couldn't have been Miller playing that solo. If the date on the original recording was correct, he was supposed to have died three days earlier. The date was in India ink on a piece of surgical tape, stuck to the top of a spool of recording wire. The handwritten numerals had the hooks and day-first order of Europe: 18/12/44. I'd won it on eBay the week before as part of a lot that included a wire recorder and a stack of 78s by French pop stars like Charles Trenent and Edith Piaf. Question: Why was listening to Glenn Miller so important to my father? === The answer to the above question is | OPTIONS:
- he liked jazz
- it reminded him of his youth
- not enough information
- The backup singers sounded drunk and it reminded him of home.
A: it reminded him of his youth

Q: The swinging doors slammed open. Cedric looked over from where he was sitting on a lab stool, chewed thumbnail between his teeth. His shoulder length blond hair was coated with the shine of someone who has only wet their hair down and not washed. His red streaked eyes were a sure sign of his having been recently woken up. He watched Dorian backing his way through the doors pulling a gurney behind him. "Dorian," Cedric said, then immediately fell silent as Dorian turned around. There was panic in Dorian's eyes and a waxy pallor beneath the stubble on his face that betrayed a lack of sleep. "Dorian," Cedric said again, that one word betraying multiple emotions: a layer of fear spread over top concern for his friend, concern for his own wellbeing, and simple anger at letting himself become involved in this. "Hook her up," Dorian said before moving to a lab stool of his own and sliding a keyboard across the table to rest in front of him, his fingers impatiently tapping the spacebar while he waited for the monitor to respond. With a hiccup of light the screen became active making Dorian's face even more hollow with its sickly glow. He was normally a handsome man with short brown hair that was always perfectly combed. Tonight, though, it was full of unruly licks and his white lab coat, which usually added to his presence as the overall leader of their research team, was cast by the computer's light into awkward shades of green and blue. A large coffee stain down the front appeared to still be wet. Cedric didn't respond. "I said hook her up," Dorian said. "Dorian," Cedric said for the third time. "I said hook her up!" Dorian screamed and Cedric jumped forward to the gurney. Coffee stain or no coffee stain, Dorian was a commanding presence. Question: What Cedric first thougth when Dorian told him to "hook her up?"? === The answer to the above question is | OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- sat there, unresponsive
- asked what Dorian was trying to do
- jumped up and did what was asked
A: sat there, unresponsive

Q: The sighting of a killer whale (or orca) can be rare, but they do love to hunt and play in the waters between Vancouver and Seattle, so one of the activities we absolutely wanted to do (in addition to the harbour seaplane flight) was to go whale watching. Just South of Vancouver, in the quaint Historic fishing village of Steveston we hopped aboard our boat, and spent the day on the water cruising the coast looking for whales, other marine mammals and seabirds. The regular chug-chug-chug of the boat motor for a couple of hours lulled me into a meditate state as we sped our way over the State line from Vancouver, back down to the waters of Washington State. The shimmer of the water all dappled in the sunlight, the slow, measured tones of our guide and snuggling into my warm jacket against the sharp breeze off the coast was just enough to make me forget my worries, and zone out from all of my modern day dilemmas. Honestly, it needs to be prescribed on the NHS. Forget hauling yoga mats and sitting in sweaty concrete rooms with patterns trying to hide the utilitarian backdrop, just hop on a boat out from Vancouver. Not having much success closer to the British Columbia shores, our captain decided to head south past the Canadian/American border. Incredibly, the resident killer whales of the San Juan Islands are the most studied whales in the world; they, in turn, have observed humans for at least six thousand years. Stable family groups, called pods, represent several generations and include grandmothers (the pod leaders), adolescents, infants, and huge bulls. Each family member is recognized by its distinctive markings and can live as long as a human. Much of what is known about the orca whale's highly-organized social life has been learned from the resident pods in the San Juan Islands of Washington. Question: What is probably true about the narrator? === The answer to the above question is | OPTIONS:
- He has a lot of free time
- He likes nature
- He is a Canadian
- not enough information
A: He likes nature