Seriously, the sub deck warning should have chased you off already. Either that or you are a real glutton for reading about someone else’s pet peeves and bitching their way out of a paper bag (something I have been accused of numerous times in my life). Whether working here at bloomfield knoble, from my home or on my damn “mobile” devices, it’s all the same when it comes to log ins, passwords, usernames and PINs annoying the crap out of me. I loathe their very existence.
I’m a child of the 70’s and 80’s. We used to be called “latch key kids” because we had a key on a piece of string strung around our necks to let us in to our homes after school. The family psychologists and news media of that time used to make a big deal about how this was splitting the American family unit apart – both parents working and the poor kid coming home to an empty house after school.
Well, it wasn’t exactly like that for me. My dad worked a lot. My mom enjoyed the spoils and was usually at Neiman Marcus (Needless Markup, as my dad used to call it), a late lunch or playing tennis when I got home from school. And frankly, the lady deserved it. I know my dad went to work early and worked long hours, but he would not have traded one minute with my mother who had to maintain a home for all of us — quite well, I might add. So I never thought twice about her enjoying the afternoons once I became of age and able to take care of myself. Which, in my family, was about 8 years old. If you could not deal with life on your own by that age you were considered useless by my parents who figured you would just turn out to be a loser your whole life anyway, so what was the point?
I now thoroughly agree with that mentality, by the way. By age 13 I could take better care of myself than 99% of my friends’ fathers, not to mention my friends who could not wash a stitch of clothing or cook a meal. In my home, it was not, “What’s for dinner, Ma?” It was, “Are we having dinner, Ma? Or are you and dad going out again tonight?” Then, more often than not, they would hand me $5 bucks for Taco Bueno. And I loved me some bean burritos and beef tacos!
Anyway, enough of the way back machine. Back to my bitching.
So, the only security I had to worry about back then was the white string holding the house key around my neck. The only repercussion if it did break and I lost that key? I would be stuck outside a couple of extra hours and then bitched at about being so irresponsible to lose a key that was clearly secured around my neck . . . Oh, what great memories.
I long for that simple life every morning that I open the bloomfield knoble office front door. To put it bluntly, I f*&#ing hate this new digital-devices-mobile-connected-network-global crap world. Seriously, I have to have a friggin’ username and password for everything? And it can’t be the same every time? And it has to change every 30 days or so? And I need a unique PIN for this card, that card, this account, that server, LifeLock, iCloud, iTunes, Kindle, SiriusXM, email . . . the list goes on and on and on. You can’t even get a cup of coffee at Starbucks if you have one of their stupid cards if you don’t first set it up with a user and password online. I am truly living a A Confederacy of Dunces life.
We all know that if one of those deformed monsters known as “hackers” wants to steal my password protected crap, they can do it in a snap. Like my 8-digit password is that tough? Can you spell b-o-s-c-0-1-2-3?
A friend (former now) told me about this “great app” I could download that would automatically remember all of my log in credentials for my computer/apps. All it needed was a MASTER PASSWORD (of course), and it would automatically log all of my log ins here forward. NOT. In reality, all it does is ask me for that master password every morning, and then it brings up the wrong information for every site or service I visit. WTF? Who builds this crap and then gets it to go viral? Did I mention that former friend is an app developer? Now I think he was just f’ing with me and is sniggering at me in a corner somewhere.
My son is 15. He has not known a world without cell phones, downloads, social media and passwords out the whazoo. I feel sorry for him and everyone born after 1998. I can’t tell you how good we had it back in the good ol’ days.
Lock your keys in your car? Get a coat hangar. Lost your house key? Bust out the laundry room window and put a piece of cardboard up for a couple of weeks. Want to listen to some new music? Go buy a tape or album and tear off the plastic shrink-wrap. Start rockin’. Done! We didn’t need no stinkin’ passwords.
So here is my vow to you, passwords: I will be 50 in two years. The date of my 50th birthday is the day I check out of this digital crap world. I’m done. Kapoot! Finis! Hasta la vista, baby!
You can find me off the network after that. The only password, PIN or other log in you will need to contact me is my home address, home phone (attached to a wall and with a long cord) or my first name. Other than that, I will be accessible and living in the past, quite happy in my ignorant state.
And when I think of you youthful “password-bound” suckers, I will not think twice.
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Eric J. Hirschhorn is a principal at bloomfield knoble. Since 1998, he has helped lead the Dallas-based bloomfield knoble Agency to become a Trusted Partner to some amazing organizations. Eric lives to spend time with his family, work, and search for unique fishing adventures.