Welcome To Password World

Securing items by lock isn't anything new. We started doing that in elementary school when we padlocked our gym locker to prevent someone from walking off with our stinky tennis shoes. We also experienced the lock up routine by tying our bicycle to a rack, a take off no doubt from tying a horse to the hitching post except horses are pretty smart and if they had something better to do they would figure a way to go do it.

Looking for the lost key used to be a daily event on a fast track so as not to be late for school. Some innovative parents laced string through the key hole which made for a unique necklace, but left the kid with the problem of twisting and turning their body so the key would slide into the slot or else taking the necklace off to use it. So, who could remember to put it back on?

Life progressed into a new phase with combination locks. Parents were hopeful the days of rummaging for lost keys were over but reality returned when little Debbie kept mixing up the numbers.

Then, along came the password evolution. Gadgets which range from ATM to paying the water bill on-line require a password and identification to access information.

Identification seems easy enough. You are who you are, right? Not so in the password world where identity becomes complex. By way of example, if you try to identify yourself as George, you'll be out-of-luck. There are gazillions of George's in the world. You could try George and tack on numbers, like George1. But before your identification is accepted, it may look like George100001000101. Good luck remembering that.

The mystery about a secret code is that we are supposed to remember it without jotting it down. Most people feel their information is safer by requiring a special knock-knock, who's there? routine. But really, never write down a password? Not even on the bottom of a kleenex box; the inside band of that old gray hat that has hung undisturbed on the rack for twenty years; or the coffee can lid?

There are also those other nuances to the magic opener. Passwords can be case sensitive. (For you old timers, say 35 and up, that means typing a capital letter or little letter.)

Repeatedly we are warned not to use the same password for more than one lock for fear the hackers will seize our treasures. Hackers are information pirates who can figure out our passwords when we can't. Of course, a hacker doesn't need to reference your kleenex box or otherwise look inside your home for written down passwords. Hackers hack. They are impolite enthusiasts who without invitation invisibly reach into your computer and help themselves. (And some people have trouble believing in the Easter Bunny.)

Then again, having a personal hacker could be a solution. When we can't remember our own identity or password, we could simply consult with our hacker who would then jiggle our memory much like a personal trainer resurrects the forgotten abs workout routine.

Tom illustrates the difficulties nicely. He enlisted a personal Hacker to create passwords. In response to Hacker's question, Tom said his dog was named Junkyard. Hacker suggested Tom use it. Tom typed J-U-N-K-Y-A-R-D and instantly received a message the word was rejected.

Hacker offered Tom a different approach. "Why don't you begin with your oldest child first, full name and year of birth." Thrilled at the idea of how easy it would be to remember, Tom quickly started typing.

MaryLouSparkie2000. ErnestLynnSparkie2001. BusterBoySparkie2002. BettySueSparkie2004. JennyJoSparkie2005.

Each password was accepted, but now it occurred to Tom he would need a way to remember which kid's information went to each particular lock.

After some consideration, Tom dreamed up the Match game. Every morning when his babes would sound off (to assure him the right kids were in the right house), Tom would have them include their lock information. Next morning, Tom put his idea into action.

"Everyone up? Okay, sound off!"

Twisting hard at a lock of hair between her fingers, Mary Lou drowsily said, "Here --MasterCard." From a voice only slightly deeper, "Yeah, Ernie -- E-Bay." The next kid, riveting with energy, shouted, "Busssssta Boy! -- the 'lectric company." In a soft whisper, Tom heard Betty Sue say, "Uh, what was it, now? I forgot." Jenny Jo bunny-hopped across the room and hollered in her biggest voice, "Me here, daddy -- da wacker!"

You just can't blame a fellow for trying.

© Coninc., TheDownsideUp.Com 2007