It happened to me again. Nervous tension sets in. Beads of sweat form on my forehead. My leg gets jimmy and bouncy.
It’s the dreaded password update. And I’m all out of ideas.
The thing is, I got locked out of my work-from-home company laptop because I wasn’t paying attention and hit the wrong key when signing in. And the computer won’t let you make a second attempt because – in all its AI wisdom – it thinks you are a hacker. Or worse yet, an idiot. And who is this ‘administrator’ it keeps yakking about? There’s no forgiveness in the cyber world. It’s a continuous battle between me and all those 1s and 0s. Artificial intelligence versus actual intelligence.
They say your password should be hard to guess but easy to remember, but my troubles start when I can’t remember something that was “easy to remember” for me six months ago. At least I know my grandmother’s first name and my first automobile.
I hate to keep bringing this up, but there has to be a better way to protect your information than with passwords. Oh wait, now they have a laptop device that uses your fingerprint to open your stuff. And also, facial recognition.
Next thing you know they’re going to want a sample of your blood to compare your DNA. That’s when I’ll lay in a supply of beef jerky, head for the hills and hide in a cave, and if somebody wants to come to see me, they’ll have to know the correct passcode to enter. And it will have to include upper- and lower-case hand gestures, semaphoring and an interpretive dance.
And bring more beef jerky.
Long story short, I finally was able to get into the laptop, but not without a password-free tête-à-tête with the aforementioned administrator at the home office.
By the way, I learned that you can’t use beefstew as a password. It’s not stroganoff.
I know, I know, there are much bigger matters in this crazy world of ours to fret about, but I try my darnedest to keep things in perspective and let the politicians clean up their own messes.
ln the writings of the Roman poet and satirist Juvenal, he said, ”Yesterday they were ruffians, today they control our lives…tomorrow they will wind up as keepers of the public lavatories.” I guess you could say Juvenal was the Will Rogers of the 1st century A.D. I’m quite fond of that quote, so feel free to apply it to the politician of your choice, and while you’re at it create a meme for Facebook.
Speaking of Facebook, with the Lenten season upon us, I was thinking of giving it up for a few weeks.
Giving up something for Lent is kind of like making a New Year’s resolution, except that after the required 40 days you can move on. So, after April 6 you can proceed to dig into your stash of marshmallow Easter bunnies with nary a guilty conscience.
I’ve heard that giving up chocolate is one of the most common Lenten penances, but there are others that could possibly pose more of a challenge. Things like what my father used to moralize about to us when we were little; the seven deadly sins: pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth. Sloth was something I wasn’t sure about but did know it had nothing to do with that strange-looking, slow-moving, branch-hugging mammal. Rather, if I recall correctly, it had something to do with me getting ready for school on time.
On the other hand, right along with the seven deadly sins, my father taught us the seven heavenly virtues; chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, patience, kindness and humility.
I’ve honestly tried to adhere to most of the seven latter but must admit to having trouble with the seven former – especially my years as a young man in the Air Force – but I suppose it’s never too late to revisit my weaknesses.
I was reading an article last week listing what people tweeted that they will be “giving up” for Lent. Number one was school (remember this is Twitter). The rest of the top ten were chocolate, Twitter, swearing, alcohol, soda, social networking, sweets, fast food and homework.
Further down were meat, coffee, chips and pizza. And never to be outdone, the wiseacres responding threw in marijuana, boys, Lent, religion and “giving up things.”
All joking aside, the Lenten season is a good interlude for self-improvement, whether it’s spiritual, mental or physical, because when you sacrifice one thing, you gain something else, in one way or another.
That’s what it’s all about.