I hunched over the terminal in a responsibly paranoid manner, hiding the keypad with one hand and clutching my wallet in the other as I entered my personal identification number (PIN).
That was twenty years ago when I had one debit card and one PIN to remember.
Then along came personal computers and the Internet – with e-mail, online banking, eBay, Amazon, PayPal, Facebook, MyFamily, and a host of other websites. Suddenly I had not one password to remember, but two dozen.
Sternly we are warned to commit this confidential information to memory rather than writing it down. Sure, that’s not a problem at all. I would use the same PIN and password over and over, but I’m sure that’s a security risk too.
Here’s an idea: Why don’t you write down your PINs and passwords in a little booklet and I’ll write down mine, and we won’t look under each other’s mattress?
I was grateful when my husband introduced me to the wonderful world of point-collecting credit cards. As long as we paid them off each month it was a great system – a couple hundred dollars worth of merchandise to collect now and then, and all that was required was an easy signature – no PINs or passwords or bending over keypads.
That worked well until recently, when the encoded chips on credit cards appeared. So here I go again, more PINs to remember since the booklet hidden under my mattress isn’t much help when I’m at the grocery store.
I suppose I’ll manage somehow, after I take contortionist classes and learn how to shield the keypad while discreetly searching for the PIN scratched on the bottom of my shoe.
Monday, 24 October 2011
Ghosts and Goblins or Gratitude
The boxes of candy treats have been in stores for a month. Why do they put them out so early? So I will buy them thinking I’m ahead of the game, eat them all, and have to buy more?
Now that the decorations and masks have joined the lollipops and bubble gum, I can no longer ignore the fact that Halloween is on its way. Still, I try to avoid the aisles where the mini chocolate bars tantalize me and gruesome masks peer out over the tops of leering skeletons.
No, I’m not a fan of Halloween. I don’t mind happy Halloween, but I don’t like scary, disgusting Halloween.
When I take my children trick-or-treating, there are some houses they are afraid to go near. One year a live spirit drifted back and forth on a front porch; other yards have zombies coming out of graves.
Isn’t Halloween mainly for children? Why do we want to scare them so? It should be a time for our wee ones to get creative and dress up in fun costumes, have some treats, and play some games – not a time to stock up on enough nightmare material to last the coming year.
I like Halloween better now that the fall time change takes place in November. Things aren’t quite so scary in the daylight.
At least for the next week I will try to push thoughts of Halloween out of my mind and concentrate on a holiday I can fully appreciate: Thanksgiving. The autumn harvest decorations are so much more pleasant than the Halloween ones, cheerful and rustic, reminding us of our plentiful blessings. Happy Thanksgiving!
Now that the decorations and masks have joined the lollipops and bubble gum, I can no longer ignore the fact that Halloween is on its way. Still, I try to avoid the aisles where the mini chocolate bars tantalize me and gruesome masks peer out over the tops of leering skeletons.
No, I’m not a fan of Halloween. I don’t mind happy Halloween, but I don’t like scary, disgusting Halloween.
When I take my children trick-or-treating, there are some houses they are afraid to go near. One year a live spirit drifted back and forth on a front porch; other yards have zombies coming out of graves.
Isn’t Halloween mainly for children? Why do we want to scare them so? It should be a time for our wee ones to get creative and dress up in fun costumes, have some treats, and play some games – not a time to stock up on enough nightmare material to last the coming year.
I like Halloween better now that the fall time change takes place in November. Things aren’t quite so scary in the daylight.
At least for the next week I will try to push thoughts of Halloween out of my mind and concentrate on a holiday I can fully appreciate: Thanksgiving. The autumn harvest decorations are so much more pleasant than the Halloween ones, cheerful and rustic, reminding us of our plentiful blessings. Happy Thanksgiving!
Something Old, Something New - First Article
Hi, I’m Kathryn. I’m not the “something old” referred to in the title, but I am a new columnist with Town & Country. I’m happy to be writing again (I wrote for a paper in Fort McMurray) but I’m sad about something else: The calculator I used since Grade 9 just died.
Sharp EL-531A was a trusted friend. She added certainty to my life, subtracted doubts from my mind, and multiplied my abilities. We divided hard tasks between us. She was a stickler for accuracy and I appreciated her for it. It was balancing the family budget that killed her.
Now I have a shiny new calculator. At least I waited until EL-531A was gone before I replaced her.
My husband wants to replace the Zenith TV I bought fifteen years ago before we were married. Whatever for? He already has a nice TV. This one is for the kids’ videos and they don’t care what it looks like.
Why are we so quick to replace perfectly good old stuff? Is the new stuff really that much better? I liked VHS. When I stopped a movie, it stayed right where I left off—and I didn’t have to worry about fingerprints and scratches. I also liked cassette tapes. Walkmans are much harder to send through the laundry than tiny MP3 players.
Technology advances so quickly we could buy some fancy new gizmo every day. That’s not good news for our budgets or for the environment.
My grandma used to say, “Fix it up or wear it out; make it do, or do without.” My grandma was smart.
We’ll get a new TV some day—when Zenith goes to where EL-531A has gone.
Sharp EL-531A was a trusted friend. She added certainty to my life, subtracted doubts from my mind, and multiplied my abilities. We divided hard tasks between us. She was a stickler for accuracy and I appreciated her for it. It was balancing the family budget that killed her.
Now I have a shiny new calculator. At least I waited until EL-531A was gone before I replaced her.
My husband wants to replace the Zenith TV I bought fifteen years ago before we were married. Whatever for? He already has a nice TV. This one is for the kids’ videos and they don’t care what it looks like.
Why are we so quick to replace perfectly good old stuff? Is the new stuff really that much better? I liked VHS. When I stopped a movie, it stayed right where I left off—and I didn’t have to worry about fingerprints and scratches. I also liked cassette tapes. Walkmans are much harder to send through the laundry than tiny MP3 players.
Technology advances so quickly we could buy some fancy new gizmo every day. That’s not good news for our budgets or for the environment.
My grandma used to say, “Fix it up or wear it out; make it do, or do without.” My grandma was smart.
We’ll get a new TV some day—when Zenith goes to where EL-531A has gone.
O Canada Lifts Spirits - Letter to the Editor
I took my children to their assigned classrooms this past Wednesday morning. When they were settled, I stopped at a table near the entrance of the school to pay the required fees.
It was then that I began to cry. I wasn’t sad that my children were back in school, nor was it the amount written on the cheque that misted my eyes.
It was the music. And something else.
As I leaned over the table to write the cheque, the principal’s voice came over the PA system welcoming students back to school. Then, as is customary each morning, our national anthem flooded the speakers.
I put my pen down and straightened as the woman taking the fees also rose to her feet and began to sing. All the parents nearby stood respectfully as O Canada filled the air. True, most of the parents weren’t actually singing, and I had to stop when the words switched to French, but I still enjoyed the music. And the feeling.
Hearing our national anthem does something to me. Stirs something inside. Uplifts my soul. Swells my heart. Could those feelings be – patriotism?
I must admit, there are times when I fear for our country, fear for the decline of patriotism in our communities. Sometimes the chitchat and lack of respect that is apparent during formal ceremonies and the singing of our anthem is disheartening. But that wasn’t the case last Wednesday.
Jane Fonda said, “When I'm in Canada, I feel this is what the world should be like.” Standing there with other parents and administrators, I thought, “This is what it feels like to be part of a great country, a great community.”
I blinked back the tears and swallowed the lump in my throat as I silently added one more reason to my list of why I love this town.
It was then that I began to cry. I wasn’t sad that my children were back in school, nor was it the amount written on the cheque that misted my eyes.
It was the music. And something else.
As I leaned over the table to write the cheque, the principal’s voice came over the PA system welcoming students back to school. Then, as is customary each morning, our national anthem flooded the speakers.
I put my pen down and straightened as the woman taking the fees also rose to her feet and began to sing. All the parents nearby stood respectfully as O Canada filled the air. True, most of the parents weren’t actually singing, and I had to stop when the words switched to French, but I still enjoyed the music. And the feeling.
Hearing our national anthem does something to me. Stirs something inside. Uplifts my soul. Swells my heart. Could those feelings be – patriotism?
I must admit, there are times when I fear for our country, fear for the decline of patriotism in our communities. Sometimes the chitchat and lack of respect that is apparent during formal ceremonies and the singing of our anthem is disheartening. But that wasn’t the case last Wednesday.
Jane Fonda said, “When I'm in Canada, I feel this is what the world should be like.” Standing there with other parents and administrators, I thought, “This is what it feels like to be part of a great country, a great community.”
I blinked back the tears and swallowed the lump in my throat as I silently added one more reason to my list of why I love this town.
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