“What’s the password?”
“Ok, you can enter.”
And that’s how it went when you were 9 or 10 and you had a clubhouse that you put together with leftover pieces of plywood and other scraps. Or, if you were lucky you had one that your dad built and it actually had a door and maybe an old table and a couple of chairs. If you were that fortunate kid then you had to have a password to keep out undesirables—like your little brother. It didn’t need to be at least at least 7 letters and have at least one number and one symbol and it wasn’t case sensitive!
Fast forward 30 years or so and passwords are no longer simple words garnered from Saturday morning cartoons. They are an infuriating necessity of daily life. You get on the computer to check your email—password, you log on to your bank--password…this site, that site…. password, password, password!
Sometimes for no apparent reason you are told you must make a new password. You whine, you complain but then you resign yourself to the inevitable. The process starts anew, you toss out a password choice but it’s no good. It must be longer. It must have some odd symbol. And you must answer several questions so that if you forget this password the answers will prove that you are in fact…you.
What was the name of your first Grade teacher?
Ok, on to the next one. What was the name of your oldest cousin on your mother’s side?
What street did you live on when you were four?
Are you kidding me? If I had an answer to those questions I would never remember my responses.
I guess I should just quit complaining and realize it is just a small inconvenience of modern life. Even though my little brother is a grown-up now there are always undesirables to keep out. Oh no, I forgot my password again; guess I’ll just have to go through the question phase again. Well let me see, what was the name of my first pet’s vet???