Okay, enough with the ridiculous security questions when you try to register on websites.
I mean, coming up with new passwords you can remember is bad enough. But these questions….seriously?
- “What was the street you lived on as a child?” (If you’ve lived in several cities, this is quite amusing.)
- “What is your favorite movie?” (what day is it?)
- “What is your favorite color?” (see above…or re-watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail)
And my current personal favorite:
“If you had to have a different first name, what would it be?”
I thought I was registering an account, not enrolling in the witness protection program.
Many days, my main challenge is remembering, in no particular order:
- Where my keys are
- Where my glasses are
- Where my wallet is
- Where my gym pass is
- Where the list is I just made
And now you want me to remember what I was thinking on that special day when I registered my account online….so that things would be “easier.”
Maybe I should just start putting the same answer for every question…remember Charlie Weaver on Hollywood Squares? No matter the question, his first answer was always “Efrem Zimbalist Junior.”
(Takes you back, doesn’t it?)
It’s like that word “remind”. I love how that sounds. Like I get to have a new brain every day. Some of the synonyms of the word “remind” are “ring a bell. Strike a chord. Hark back. Jog your memory.”
Nice. Doesn’t make me feel like an idiot because I can’t remember the color of my satchel in second grade.
Scientists tell us our brains consist of approximately one billion neurons, and these neurons work together to help us remember things. The good news is our neurons keep growing throughout our lives. And there are all kinds of memories…immediate memories, working memories, long-term memories. I’ve also read the brain operates on the same amount of power as a 10-watt light bulb.
Which explains Congress.
Animals know how to remind us of things, like mealtimes. They just sit about 3 inches away from us and stare intently at us. Perhaps even with a bowl in the mouth. Regardless of changes in time or seasons. They know what’s important, and when things need to happen. Without logging in.
I get the need for security and protection. But the harder you make the questions, the more likely we have to write down our answers, which kind of defeats the purpose, right?
Enough of this, it’s wearing out my brain. And reminding—no, wait—harking back that I haven’t updated my passwords in a while.
Better get out the dictionary. And the aspirin.
“What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?”