Usernames and passwords are becoming my archrivals.
They’re not my archrivals in the way that villains are the archrivals of comic-book superheroes. In fact, managing and remembering usernames and passwords are starting to make me feel less like a superhero than ever before.
I’m not sure if superheroes are required to choose a username they’ve never used on a particular account — one that is alphanumeric, requires at least one numeral, a special character and doesn’t repeat the same letter or number three times or more. If so, hopefully their special powers will encompass super memory skills — skills that far exceed mine.
People have had tons of suggestions for ways to remember passwords. There are online services and password-storage software; there are sequences and rules to remember in sort of a self-sequenced system, and tricks to help remember certain combinations.
None of these tricks have helped me that much. Some combinations, like the ones I need to use every day, practically roll off the fingers, but the brain is tasked with so much to remember, the lesser-used combos fall by the memory wayside, last seen tumbling into a bottomless pit of forget.
Many readers should be able to relate when I announce I’m not the most tech-savvy person.
Born too late to have much of an excuse, but too early to have grown up with high-tech gadgetry, I think back to when “space-age technology” and “the same ice cream eaten by real astronauts” were regularly used in advertising lexicon as serious statements.
There’s no time for any of us to waste in feeling sorry for ourselves. Not only will life “time out” due to 10 minutes of inactivity, but we may well end up in some sort of “inactive” file if we don’t remember what color car we wanted to have growing up. Or the name of our first pets.
The impetus for such frivolous naming systems is simple to understand. Hackers seem to be accessing larger and larger databases all the time, and while code-cracking doesn’t prevent all types of identity theft, most online business is set up to at least stop amateurs or friends-turned-enemies from doing too much damage.
No matter how important and relevant passwords might be, it’s still a lot for one brain to crunch.
It feels like an especially huge, complex task for those who left by the side of the “information superhighway” in a pile of stagnant, alphanumeric dust. I learned the “qwerty” keypad on an electric typewriter — a luxury my mother never had during her school days, she says.
Sometimes I wonder if the only people who will be able to get anything done in the future are those who can remember usernames and passwords.
We aren’t really at the point yet where we need numbers or letters to get food, water or electricity. However, if you have to give your mother’s maiden name over the phone to get the heat turned on, we’re not that far away from knowledge-based survival.
Some password prompts are easier than others. What if you’ve moved a lot when you were young, and can’t remember what you entered for “the first street you lived on?” This could cause someone to miss out something coveted — such as bacon.
My greatest fear isn’t really that I’ll miss out on a food coupon or have my Earth residency revoked for forgetting a password (Do Martians have usernames and PINs? Or is that just this planet?). I fear younger people will laugh at me and not take me seriously, as I’m behind the times and don’t have the latest technology mastered.
If I can focus on a few password rules and suggestions, I don’t think I’ll end up out on the street with no resources. The situation isn’t that dire.
However, I’m also hoping to remember the right amount of ampersands and asterisks to get through each day without help from a superhero — as long as the day isn’t case-sensitive.