By CYNTHIA HUBERT, Sacramento Bee

SACRAMENTO, Calif. -- When teenagers or younger adults take their own lives, the losses trigger society's alarm bells. But it is older people, particularly men 65 and older, who have the highest rate of suicide of any age group.

SACRAMENTO, Calif. -- Doris Wogec is standing inside Mercy San Juan Medical Center's maternity unit, gazing at one of her star pupils.

"This baby knows just what to do," she says, referring to tiny Alyssa Bracamonte, whose mother, Tammie, is feeding the bundled newborn. "She would be great in a video."

No one wants to raise the white flag of personal bankruptcy, California lawyer John Roberts insists.

For the young and strong, wiping out suffocating debt can offer a fresh start, but for seniors on fixed incomes, it can signal a lower standard of living.

Cathy Liu wore her trademark smile last month as she watched her former colleagues celebrate.

"I was proud of them," she says of the young doctors in training who graduated to the next level of medical residency at the University of California, Davis.

"I wanted to be there. I felt happy."

But deep inside, Liu admits, she also felt a twinge of sadness.

OMG! The shortcuts and symbols that teen-agers use in electronic conversations are creeping into their schoolwork!

That's one of the conclusions of a study released this week by the Pew Internet and American Life Project and the National Commission on Writing. It's no surprise to teens.

Andrew Frank, proud father of the "car of the future," has a news flash for gas-guzzlers: The future is now.

For more than three decades, the engineering professor at the University of California, Davis, has been touting vehicles that power up by plugging into household electrical outlets. Most of that time he had a hard time getting the right people to take him seriously.

The sun is setting on a cool late-winter day, casting a golden glow across the California Delta.

It's prime time for sturgeon poachers, and for the woman determined to nail them.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Wayne Kern's calloused hands are dancing to the tune of rain trickling from the ceiling.