I’m lost in the password jungle and I can’t get out!

I need passwords to get into my computer, to access Google. I need an Apple ID and password for my phone and for the 23 applications that I use now and then. I need a password for my internet and for my streaming devices. I need email passwords and passwords for credit card accounts, bank accounts and online shopping.

Now, it’s my fault that I don’t write them all down somewhere and they’re supposed to be privately secured, so what’s the point of storing them on my laptop and iPhone? If someone gets into my settings, he could hack into all of my information.

So, I’m constantly staring at the question on the screen, “Forgot your password?” Instead of telling me what my forgotten password is, most sites say I have to make new ones, which, of course means I will likely forget those, too.

And then there’s the red message alert. “You changed your password six months ago.” What does that do for me now? How can I recall a password I changed a half year ago when I can’t remember what I ate for dinner last night?

Then, I get directions on how to change my passwords. They must be at least eight characters long. It must include capital letters, lowercase letters, a number and nonletter character. So, I punch up one I’ve used somewhere else before and I get, “Very weak. Try again.” Three attempts later, my password “Stupidme%$!” is finally accepted, but of course, I might remember the ‘Stupidme’ part of the word, but definitely not the rest.

The online bank account password setup is the worst of all. I get it that I need to have top security to protect my money, but here’s what happened to me after I was forced to change my original password due to some suspicion about somebody trying to gain access, which by the way, that suspicious person happened to be me because I failed too many times with the wrong passwords.

After four tries to get into my accounts by answering security questions like, “What was your first dog? What’s your grandmother’s maiden name? What was the make of your first car?” (By the way, Chevrolet was rejected. Only Chevy worked because I guess that’s how I had originally answered the question.), I got locked out. I had to go to the bank so they could unfreeze the access to my accounts.

I went home and typed in my new password and got the message, “Your password is incorrect.” Back to the bank I went again. Someone once kidded with me and said change your password to “Incorrect.” That way, I’ll be reminded of it every time I see, “Your password is incorrect.”

Now, let’s be real. The aggravation to navigate through a jungle of User IDs and passwords to protect privacy is a joke. Computer and phone manufacturers and law enforcement agencies can access any of our information without knowing our “secret words.”

Norton Internet Security Services advises that the best passwords are at least 16 characters long. I tried “Ihatepasswords$!” but I was informed that was already taken. Then I tried, “Passwordsmakemedrink.com,” thinking no one has thought of that one, but someone already owned it.

Speaking of User IDs, try remembering all of those too. Is it your email address, your first name: Rich, rich, Richie, Richard or Richierodarooskie?

And how about the temporary passwords you have to change to permanent ones? Verizon might give you &4rTuBHJ and you get access, but then you forget to change the temporary and of course, you get locked out again.

All this leads to my non-tech savvy mind to think there has to be a permanent way out of the password jungle. My fingerprint gets me into my computer and into several accesses on my phone. Shouldn’t that be enough? I mean unless there’s someone out there that has the exact same fingerprint as mine, or wants to go through the trouble of replicating it, why would I need passwords?

We are rapidly heading to the total elimination of placing our signatures on official documents anyway and replacing them with fingerprints.

In a court of law, fingerprints are admissible evidence to help convict someone of a crime. You don’t hear a prosecuting attorney say, “We have confiscated the accused’s computer which we think contains viable evidence to prove that he committed the crime, but he won’t tell us his password so we can’t get in.”

Growing up in the baby boomer generation, we used a password to allow us admittance into forts and treehouses. Now tell me why I can still remember, “Tiger tail” that got me into Eddie Rose’s backwoods’ fort when I was 11 years old and I now I can’t remember my Apple ID.

Let’s clear out the jungle of this nonsense before my mind starts to forget everything. I’m worried that when I get to the gates of heaven and they ask me for the password to get in, I’m going to say, “Oh God!” and I’ll hear a voice shout, “The password is incorrect. It must be at least eight characters and include an ancient symbol from the Old Testament.”

Rich Strack can be reached at richiesadie11@gmail.com.