[Guest post by Michael A. Babiarz — copyright 2016]
I’m old enough to remember the original incarnation of the game show Password. Airing from the early to late 1960s, it featured a voiceover announcer who told the TV viewers, in hushed tones, the answer to a particular puzzle that the contestant and his or her celebrity partner attempted to solve. On those few occasions when I was violently ill enough for my mother to allow me to miss school, I chose daytime game shows over soap operas for my TV viewing, as I nestled under a blanket on the living room sofa. Perhaps this is why I have mixed feelings whenever I see a television quiz show today. It brings back memories of being sick. I can’t enjoy lemon-lime soda either; Mom thought flat versions of this drink settled a grade schooler’s grumpy tummy.
Nevertheless, I believe if you queried the average man on the street as to what memory the word “password” conjures, few would mention the old broadcast program. For most of us, a password is something we use to access our own personal accounts on a myriad of websites. And, if you’re like me, you forget at least one of these login phrases every three months or so.
Many sites require you to answer questions designed to give you hints about your password, or to provide additional security:
What middle school did you attend?
What was the model of your first car?
Name your favorite food?
In feet and inches, how tall are you?
Regrettably, I forget the answers I give to the security questions. From my completely unscientific study, this seems to be more of a male thing. Perhaps if the websites made the questions more “man-friendly”, I would have a better chance of remembering my digital IDs:
What was the name of the bully who gave you wedgies in middle school?
What is the model of the car in which you had your first sexual experience?
What is the greatest number of hot chicken wings you have consumed in a single sitting?
How many inches has your waist size increased since high school graduation?
My wife Ann and I modified our passwords for our zillions of logins, using three factors. First, we would try to coordinate these phrases so that we would limit them to several, rather than numerous, “open sesame” monikers. Second, we would change these passwords regularly. And third, we would create “strong” passwords. A strong password combines capital and small letters, misspelled words, other characters and numbers. For example:
ChEEpD8?
eyeEEt2#s
1&onlyEE
(Dear hackers: no, none of these are our current or past passwords.)
Prior, however, we were like most couples. Our passwords were a hodgepodge of created-on-the-spot pseudonyms. This came back to haunt us when Ann fell ill.
The precursors to her ultimate malady were a series of strokes. One of the chaotic clots must have damaged the neural lodgings where memories of several passwords were contained. For a time, she could not remember the login to her computer, which she entered several times daily prior to the onset of her illness. However, she had the forethought to create a digital file of all of our passwords, which she e-mailed to me. Unfortunately, I dutifully tucked that file away in a folder on my system and then promptly forgot about it.
After a couple of nervous weeks, where we made do with workarounds, the magic of brain rewiring allowed Ann to once again tap into the little file within her brain where these memories were stored. Not only did she recall her computer login, she reminded me of the password file she had earlier sent. Eureka! — I found it! — access restored and crisis averted. Although my wife prepared a listing of these essential alpha-numerics, our past practice of not coordinating and not changing these probably contributed to the fact that I didn’t remember her doing so.
Yet, in my opinion, having a list of your passwords, stored in some fashion where it is safe yet accessible, is one of the single most important factors in preparing for chaos.
You can create the file digitally and store it where you believe it to be safe — some form of cloud storage, other secure site that exists for this purpose, digital file, encrypted perhaps, or otherwise — or you can take technology down a few notches and create a paper backup. If you change passwords frequently, print off a list of them, put it in an envelope, and toss it in your lockbox. Date it so you know which is the most current and carefully shred, burn, or otherwise destroy past lists.
A list of passwords is one of the three key pieces of data that I believe you need to have available in the event a chaotic event arrives. The second is a list of your credit card numbers and contact information to reach each account issuer. The third is a copy of the drivers license of every member of your household.
A final note on passwords: never use autofill to complete a password for any sensitive site, such as a log-in to access bank or brokerage accounts. Key in the characters each time you access this information.