input:  Now, answer this question: Kurt Vonnegut, writer and famous speech giver at US university graduation ceremonies, made this point to one group of soon-to-be-non-students: If this isn't nice, I don't know what is. It is the end of a story about his grandpa who, on a summer's afternoon, would find the shade of a tree under which he could rest with a glass of homemade lemonade. The family didn't have a lot of cash, the grandpa worked hard every day of his life, but no matter how relentless the day-to-day was, he would always repeat this phrase as a reminder to those around him that, at the end of the day, this is all still amazing to be part of. This kind of optimism, as you might call it, can often disappear in a flash in the busy-ness of business or school. Things become impossible, hardgoing, relentless(ly difficult). And the reasons we give for that busyness nearly always involve someone or something else - the system, the job, the weather... For many years, people would ask the salutary "how are you?" and my answer was a stock one: "I'm tired." It was my wife who pointed it out to me, presumably because everyone else was too polite to express their boredom with my reply. The fact is, most people feel tired most of the time, until they make a switch in their life. That switch is deciding that the only person who can turn that frown upside down, who can make crazy stuff happen (or attempt to, and enjoy the process), is you. And in Vonnegut's case, that switch came from saying out loud the one phrase that brings us back to the good elements in what we or our team or our family is doing at any given moment: If this isn't nice, I don't know what is. According to the above context, answer the following question. What did Kurt Vonnegut probably think of his grandpa?
A:
output: he probably emulated him

input:  Now, answer this question: Staying in our apartment on the North Shore of Vancouver, we were tucked into a sleepy, suburban idyll where once off the busy highway, kids played ball games in the street and cats strolled around their own home territories without a care in the world. It is also home to the famous Capilano Suspension Bridge, but warned that the crowds in mid-August would be overwhelming, we were given the tipoff that the Lynn Canyon Suspension Bridge and the surrounding park is a lovely place to while away an afternoon. Smaller, free and with loads of walks and picnic areas, I sent my intrepid husband ahead to brave the canyon bridge whilst I sipped a much-needed coffee in the local cafe. It was beautiful. It’s mostly because the thought of hopping onto a swaying bridge above the ravine gives me the heebie-jeebies, whereas he will stride across panels of transparent glass suspended metres above busy streets (like Tower Bridge) or gondola rides that skim well above the treetops (like Japan lake or the Bavarian Alpine range.) Watching the shower of golden pine needles drift down from the redwoods whilst I typed out a blog post, I enjoyed seeing squirrels scamper and birds twitter their way around the boughs and branches. That blur below? A local black squirrel who was foraging amongst the cooing tourists for snacks… About 20 minutes later his grinning face floated back into view, and he brandished his phone with images of his quick wander through the trails. Lynn Canyon Park officially opened to the public in 1912; there are several trails throughout the park to choose from for a leisurely hike including the popular Baden Powell Trail and there are also many breathtaking waterfalls and popular swimming holes which are perfect during the summer months. Lynn Canyon Park covers 617 acres today and comprises of second growth forest with most of the trees aged approximately 80 to 100 years old. According to the above context, answer the following question. Why was the author told about the Lynn Canyon Suspension Bridge and surrounding park?
A:
output: they are lovely places to go

input:  Now, answer this question: If you visited the Getty Center in July or early August, you may have encountered a group of high school students wearing white lab coats with “Teen Lab” splattered across the back. You might have spotted them testing kinetic sculptures made from recycled materials, sketching in front of artworks in the galleries, or taking Polaroid self-portraits inspired by David Hockney’s photocollages. Online, you may have seen the playful social media stories they created to share their experiments with artistic and scientific processes. The teens were participants in the Getty Teen Lab, a four-week paid internship for high school students. Supported by a generous grant from the Vera R. Campbell Foundation, Teen Lab was the first of several teen-focused initiatives that the J. Paul Getty Museum is launching in 2017 and 2018. The Getty’s Education Department developed Teen Lab in response to several seemingly disconnected questions that many art museums are grappling with today: How can we engage diverse youth in meaningful ways? How can museums help meet the rising demand for K-12 curriculum that integrates Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, and Math (STEAM)? Can art museums themselves be sites for STEAM learning? To address these questions, we looked at other teen programs and discovered that the most successful models are those that give teens agency and a voice in the museum.(1) For example, many museums have teen councils that program events for their peers or offer opportunities for students to collaborate on projects with artists.(2) The Getty wanted to build on these models by empowering teens to be active creators of educational content. In keeping with this goal, we designed the program using the project-based learning approach, which develops skills and knowledge by inviting students to explore solutions to authentic, real-world problems. According to the above context, answer the following question. Why was the program created?
A:
output:
Because teens we're engaged at the museum.