Pop quiz.

Can anyone (except family members) name any member of the US Men's National (Soccer) Team (USMNT)? Bonus points for coaches.

Good news!

There was a time in the not-so-distant past that I read Austin Kleon's blog every day. But then, for various reasons, I fell off, in part because he stopped posting every day, instead exploring other mediums and pursuing other projects.

One of those projects was writing a new book, which is now out. Like his other books, Don't Call It Art is structured in ten points. My favorites (right now) are #7 'problems of output are problems of input' and #6 'think outside your head.' They're all fun, though.

I'm looking forward to reading what's supporting the ten points.

Random observation.

While M. Antoinette caught a lot of grief for saying 'let them eat cake' it should be noted you don't have to butter cake. Frosting is nice but not necessary.

On a totally unrelated note, homemade bran muffins are tastier if untoasted.

The obit game.

At various times in my academic career, some professors (usually of a social sciences bent) would have us play what we called 'the obit game.' The rules were simple: write your own obituary, saying what we did. It had to be a normal span of years (that is, we couldn't get run over by a speeding bus when leaving the classroom). It was OK to take pride in our accomplishments (this was before 'humblebrags' were invented). After the writing, there was discussion.

I thought it was a stupid assignment, and responded accordingly. Like most of my classmates, as I recall, we mostly talked about external recognitions. Degrees. Awards. Jobs. Positions. Travel. If I recall correctly, nobody talked about relationships, qualities, dreams, passions or failures.

I did not keep the assignment, and have no idea what I wrote. It was at best 'speculative fiction.' In some ways, the fault was with the teacher in springing the assignment on us without time to dig into the lives of our future selves. Also, obits then (and now) tend to focus on the doing, not the being. The more you did, the longer the obituary.

I think what jogged this was an episode of HNewsRadio, (s4, ep18), where the news director is forced to deliver a eulogy for an employee nobody knew, including himself.

That got me thinking. Except for high-profile folk, where newspapers and other outlets keep a running file, most of us give little to no thought to what will be said about us when we shuffle off our mortal coil, mostly because we probably don't believe we are going to shuffle off our mortal coil.

So just who gets to write out obituary? Do we do it ourselves, implying we know ourselves best? If I did it, it would be heavy with failings, unrealized dreams, hurts, and self-recriminations, and gloss over the good that I did but may not even know. Do we pick some one person, or should it be a collaborative effort?

I really don't know. I do know I'm not about to put aside everything else, sit down, and start writing my memoirs' abstract and executive summary, nor am I going to start calling friends and asking for input.

However, I am going to be mulling questions like these:

• Why were you put on earth?
• What difference did you make?
• Did you make people laugh and happy?
• Did you help people?
• Did you help lift burdens or add to them?
• Did you try to fix any screw-ups you may have created?
• Is the world (or at least a small part of it) a better place for you having been in it?

Words, words, words.

So, my wife and I were on a short trip, and the conversation turned to the great musical talents that appeared in a legendary music venue that she frequented in the 80s. My wife was especially impressed with the performers they were able to attract to such a small space.

Her personal favorite was Townes Van Zandt, who she saw three times. She described the first two shows as 'great,' but hesitated with the third. We both knew the problems Van Zandt had with addiction later in life, and after a few moments, I suggested 'wasted.' That worked, and we drove on.

But I got to thinking about the word 'wasted,' not only in the Jimmy Buffett sense, but also in the sense of 'needless loss.' Both apply to Townes. Hope he's keepin' it free and clean.'

Today's personality quiz.

Apropos of the previous entry, would you say you're Pancho, Lefty, a Federale, or the guy in the first verse leaving home and mother?

O Lord, Anything but that!

While puttering around in an HTML/CSS tutorial on dropdown menus, a popover window offered to let me 'Think like a software engineer.'

I have known engineers of all stripes, and trust me, that is not anything anybody wants, even for a worst enemy.

All the irony you need.

According to the Wall Street Journal, brand expansion has come to Hershey: Hershey navigates weight drugs, affordability worries.

Now, 'navigates' does not mean 'going to sell,' but it's fun to think about.