When my brother and I were young, my mom would take us on Transportation Days.
It goes like this: You can’t take any means of transportation more than once. We would start from home, walking two blocks to the rail station. We’d take the train into the city center, then a bus, switching to the tram, then maybe a taxi. We always considered taking a horse carriage in the historic district, but we didn’t like the way the horses were treated, so we never did. At the end of the day, we took the subway to our closest station, where Mom’s friend was waiting to give us a ride home—our first car ride of the day.
The good thing about Transportation Days is not only that Mom taught us how to get around. She was born to be multimodal (多方式的). She understood that depending on cars only was a failure of imagination and, above all, a failure of confidence—the product of a childhood not spent exploring subway tunnels.
Once you learn the route map and step with certainty over the gap between the train and the platform, nothing is frightening anymore. New cities are just light-rail lines to be explored. And your personal car, if you have one, becomes just one more tool in the toolbox—and often an inadequate one, limiting both your mobility and your wallet.
On Transportation Days, we might stop for lunch on Chestnut Street or buy a new book or toy, but the transportation was the point. First, it was exciting enough to watch the world speed by from the train window. As I got older, my mom helped me unlock the mysteries that would otherwise have paralyzed my first attempts to do it myself: How do I know where to get off? How do I know how much it costs? How do I know when I need tickets, and where to get them? What track, what line, which direction, where’s the stop, and will I get wet when we go under the river?
I’m writing this right now on an airplane, a means we didn’t try on our Transportation Days and, we now know, the dirtiest and most polluting of them all. My flight routed me through Philadelphia. My multimodal mom met me for dinner in the airport. She took a train to meet me.
【小题1】Which was forbidden by Mom on Transportation Days?

When my brother and I were young, my mom would take us on Transportation Days.
It goes like this: You can’t take any means of transportation more than once. We would start from home, walking two blocks(街区) to the rail station. We’d take the train into the city center, then a bus, switching to the tram, then maybe a taxi. We always considered taking a horse carriage in the historic district, but we didn’t like the way the horses were treated, so we never did. At the end of the day, we took the subway to our closest station, where Mom’s friend was waiting to give us a ride home—our first car ride of the day.
The good thing about Transportation Days is not only that Mom taught us how to get around. She was born to be multimodal (多方式的). She understood that depending on cars only was a failure of imagination and, above all, a failure of confidence—the product of a childhood not spent exploring subway tunnels.
Once you learn the route map and step with certainty over the gap between the train and the platform, nothing is frightening anymore. New cities are just light-rail lines to be explored. And your personal car, if you have one, becomes just one more tool in the toolbox—and often an inadequate(不适当的) one, limiting both your mobility and your wallet.
On Transportation Days, we might stop for lunch on Chestnut Street or buy a new book or toy, but the transportation was the point. First, it was exciting enough to watch the world speed by from the train window. As I got older, my mom helped me unlock the mysteries that would otherwise have paralyzed my first attempts to do it myself: How do I know where to get off? How do I know how much it costs? How do I know when I need tickets, and where to get them? What track, what line, which direction, where’s the stop, and will I get wet when we go under the river?
I’m writing this right now on an airplane, a means we didn’t try on our Transportation Days and, we now know, the dirtiest and most polluting of them all. My flight routed me through Philadelphia. My multimodal mom met me for dinner in the airport. She took a train to meet me.
【小题1】Which was forbidden by Mom on Transportation Days?

When my brother and I were young, my mom would take us on Transportation Days.

It goes like this: You can't take any means of transportation more than once. We would start from home, walking two blocks to the rail station. We'd take the train into the city center, then a bus, switching to the train, then maybe a taxi. We always considered taking a horse carriage in the historic district, but we didn't like the way the horses were treated, so we never did. At the end of the day, we took the subway to our closest station, where Mom's friend was waiting to give us a ride home—our first car ride of the day.

The good thing about Transportation Days is not only that Mom taught us how to get around. She was born to be multimodal (多方式的). She understood that depending on cars only was a  failure of imagination and, above all, a failure of confidence—the product of a childhood not spent exploring subway tunnels.

Once you learn the route map and step with certainty over the gap between the train and the platform, nothing is frightening anymore. New cities are just light­rail lines to be explored. And your personal car, if you have one, becomes just one more tool in the toolbox—and often an inadequate one, limiting both your mobility and your wallet.

On Transportation Days, we might stop for lunch on Chestrut Street or buy a new book or toy, but the transportation was the point. First, it was exciting enough to watch the world speed by from the train window. As I got older, my mom helped me unlock the mysteries that would otherwise have paralyzed my first attempts to do it myself: How do I know where to get off? How do I know how much it costs? How do I know when I need tickets, and where to get them? What track, what line, which direction, where's the stop, and will I get wet when we go under the river?

I'm writing this right now on an airplane, a means we didn't try on our Transportation Days and, we now know, the dirtiest and most polluting of them all. My flight routed me through Philadelphia. My multimodal mom met me for dinner in the airport. She took a train to meet me.

1. According to the writer, what was the greatest benefit of her Transportation Days?

A．Building confidence in herself.

B．Reducing her use of private cars.

C．Developing her sense of direction.

D．Giving her knowledge about vehicles.

2. The underlined word “paralyzed”(in Para.5) is closest in meaning to “________”．

A．displayed      B．justified       C．ignored       D．ruined

3. Which means of transportation does the writer probably disapprove of?

A．Airplane.      B．Subway.       C．Train.        D．Car.

When my brother and I were young, my mom would take us on Transportation Days.

It goes like this: You can’t take any means of transportation more than once. We would start from home, walking two blocks(街区) to the rail station. We’d take the train into the city center, then a bus, switching to the tram, then maybe a taxi. We always considered taking a horse carriage in the historic district, but we didn’t like the way the horses were treated, so we never did. At the end of the day, we took the subway to our closest station, where Mom’s friend was waiting to give us a ride home—our first car ride of the day.

The good thing about Transportation Days is not only that Mom taught us how to get around. She was born to be multimodal (多方式的). She understood that depending on cars only was a failure of imagination and, above all, a failure of confidence—the product of a childhood not spent exploring subway tunnels.

Once you learn the route map and step with certainty over the gap between the train and the platform, nothing is frightening anymore. New cities are just light-rail lines to be explored. And your personal car, if you have one, becomes just one more tool in the toolbox—and often an inadequate(不适当的) one, limiting both your mobility and your wallet.

On Transportation Days, we might stop for lunch on Chestnut Street or buy a new book or toy, but the transportation was the point. First, it was exciting enough to watch the world speed by from the train window. As I got older, my mom helped me unlock the mysteries that would otherwise have paralyzed my first attempts to do it myself: How do I know where to get off? How do I know how much it costs? How do I know when I need tickets, and where to get them? What track, what line, which direction, where’s the stop, and will I get wet when we go under the river?

I’m writing this right now on an airplane, a means we didn’t try on our Transportation Days and, we now know, the dirtiest and most polluting of them all. My flight routed me through Philadelphia. My multimodal mom met me for dinner in the airport. She took a train to meet me.

1.Which was forbidden by Mom on Transportation Days?

2.According to the writer, what was the greatest benefit of her Transportation Days?

3.The underlined word “paralyzed” (in Para. 5) is closest in meaning to “_______”.

4.Which means of transportation does the writer probably have a dislike of?

This is no ordinary button. One click and I have the power to erase a person from my life.
In late fall, I had around 400 friends on Facebook. Today, I have 134.
Click. Make that 133.
When Facebook first entered my life in 2005, I panicked（恐慌、担心） that my friend count was too low. If I wasn’t properly connected, how would anyone see my clever quote(引语)? Who would wish me a happy birthday? I accepted and sent out friend requests without a second thought and soon accumulated 391 friends.
There is an appeal to being able to communicate with someone or just “thumbs(拨动手指) up” a photo rather than make real conversation.
“It’s comforting and it’s easy,” said Larry Rosen, a psychology professor at California State University, who studies the way people communicate online.” There’s a sense of belonging in it. It’s a sense of community in a generation where community has sort of (有点)disappeared.”
However, I don’t talk to half of these people in the online community. There are some I would avoid if I met them on the street.
Click. 132.
I decided to rid my account of any “friend” that…well, wasn’t. Sound easy? You try it.
Look at who you’re dealing with: family, friends, classmates, crushes(爱恋的对象), acquaintances…
With every click of the “Remove from friends” button, you risk burning a bridge, losing a contact and missing an opportunity. So every time I go to click the button, my heart hurts.
However, I’m not the only one who has experienced a Faceboook friend refreshing. The New Oxford American Dictionary announces its “Word of the Year” each year, and last year, “unfriend” made the cut (入围) (though I’ll still stick with “defriend”).
When I started my mission(任务), a few friends joined. Most were surprised by how easily they could cut hundreds of connections without thinking twice.
“Oh my God, I defriended like 600 people today. I feel so good!” my friend Sarah messaged.
Dana, a close friend from high school, and I battled it out to see who could get our counts lower. She wins at 123.
To some, it’s poor “netiquette(网络礼仪)” to defriend. But to me, it’s the stage of life when we hold onto the people who count, the people who impact you.

1. 1.

   According to the article, what happens when you click the “Remove form friends” button?

   1. A.
      A message is sent out to your online friends.
   2. B.
      You accept someone as your online friend.
   3. C.
      You send out a friend request to people.
   4. D.
      The number of your online friends is reduced.
2. 2.

   The writer worried about her friend count in 2005 because ______.

   1. A.
      no one would wish her a happy birthday
   2. B.
      it was the first time she had made friends online
   3. C.
      she had only 391 online friends at that time
   4. D.
      she was eager to make connections
3. 3.

   What is Larry Rosen’s opinion?

   1. A.
      People living in the same area are closely connected in everyday life.
   2. B.
      Communication online helps people feel they are members of a group.
   3. C.
      It’s easy for people to make and break new friendships online.
   4. D.
      Today’s young people spend nearly all their time communicating online.
4. 4.

   Which of the following is the best description of the underlined sentence?

   1. A.
      I made new friends online while I removed some old ones.
   2. B.
      Some friends cut the number of their online friends just like I did.
   3. C.
      We competed to see who could remove the most online friends.
   4. D.
      When someone removed me from a friends’ list, I removed him/her.