Locked in Password Prison

To make it worse, the only way out is with a Microsoft key.

 

Despite remarkable advances in computer technology and artificial intelligence, American productivity has either flatlined or declined.  No doubt, a contributing factor is that Americans are wasting too much time keeping track of their passwords, security codes, PINs, user IDs, and user names.

Even my new garage door motor came with an app for opening and closing the door with a smartphone.  Of course, that requires a username and password.

The feature sounded like a good idea to my wife and me when we got the motor, because we use the garage door when we leave for, and return from our daily 90-minute walk.  But it didn’t turn out well when we returned home one day and I had an urgent need to pee but couldn’t get the app to work.  I had to run to the backyard and pee behind a bush.

The lesson proved to be valuable when we recently purchased a shade from Hunter-Douglas for a large picture window.  The salesperson asked if we wanted a model that comes with a battery-operated motor for opening and closing the shade.  Making it sound like a positive instead of a negative, she went on to say that there is a smartphone app for operating the motor.

We opted for an old-fashioned manually-operated shade.  No password is required.

Verizon Wireless is worse.  It should change its name to Verizon Brainless.  The company’s sign-in protocols were designed by either a moron or a sadist.  Requirements include a user ID, a greeting name, a billing password, and another password for “My Verizon,” whatever that is.

Xfinity (Comcast) must have chosen its strange name because the time necessary to sign into an account with the company approaches infinity.  Signing in requires a screen name, an ID, a personal email, and a password, which has to be written in lowercase.

The Xfinity home security system is just as complicated.  It requires entering a four-digit code into a keypad by a door to arm and disarm the system, followed by entering a “2” to arm the system and a “1” to disarm the system.  Should an alarm be triggered, the homeowner has to be ready with a secret word.

I already have secret words for intruders:  “Stop!  I have a gun.”  No password or user ID is required.

Sometimes, companies arbitrarily change their terminology.  What was originally known as a User Name becomes known as a Login Name or User ID.  Heaven help you if you get confused and use the wrong term.

All of this pales in comparison to what Bill Gates and Microsoft have inflicted on customers.  To wit:

I recently purchased at Best Buy a high-end Hewlett Packard desktop computer with an operating system of Windows 11.   The purchase itself was a nightmare, because Best Buy, like so many retail stores nowadays, is short of qualified staff.

After arriving home with the computer, I went through the agony of setting it up and downloading my preferred software.  Later, in the middle of using the computer to check emails, a message from Microsoft came across the screen that the system was corrupted and then gave instructions on what to do next.  Because the instructions were gobbledygook and didn’t work, I did a hard shutdown.

When I restarted the computer, a message appeared that I needed to enter a 48-digit Bitlocker recovery key in order to use the system.  Having no idea of what a recovery key was, and not finding such a key with the minimal papers that came with the computer, I went to another computer in the house to access Microsoft’s website to see if an explanation could be found there.

Fortunately, I had an account with Microsoft.  Unfortunately, I had an account with Microsoft.  The account had a corresponding account name, a security code, a PIN, and a password.  After figuring out which ones to use, and after sacrificing a goat to Bill Gates in the backyard, I finally was able to access the account to try to find the recovery key.

Because the instructions for doing so were even less understandable than a speech by Kamala Harris, I decided to call Microsoft’s 1-800 number.  The robot that answered the phone asked what device I was calling about.  I said “Desktop computer,” and the robot responded that it didn’t understand.  I then said, “Windows 11,” and the robot responded that it didn’t understand. Thinking that a third time would be a charm, I said, “HP desktop.”  The robot responded that it didn’t understand, said goodbye, and hung up on me.

That left me with no choice but to go back to Microsoft’s website to try to figure out how to obtain the 48-digit key.  After sacrificing another goat to Bill Gates and reciting 48 curse words in English and Italian, I finally found the key and entered the 48 digits into my new computer as required, being afraid that I would make a mistake and enter a wrong digit.

The key worked, but now I’m fearful of some other torture being inflicted on me when I use the computer.

The good news is that I’ve been having a recurring pleasant fantasy:  that Bill Gates is locked in a prison cell and told that the only way he can get out is to use the right key to unlock the door, a key that supposedly can be obtained by calling Microsoft’s 1-800 robot or accessing Microsoft’s website with the correct account name, security code, PIN, and password.  Failing to obtain the key, Gates spends the rest of his life in prison.