My Smart Experience class has an official date, time, and location. (Some content will be posted to the site soon, too.) I hope to see you on November 15. Interested in attending? Contact me for a discount rate.
(Previously: Back to school)
Me, commenting on the GM/UAW strike, Tuesday: “Won’t a short strike help GM in one respect by reducing existing inventory? Obviously not long-term, and the PR is bad, but ignoring the variables, there’s a bottom-line opportunity here”.
The Economist, Thursday: “From GM’s point of view the short strike may even have been a blessing: the halt in production gave it a chance to reduce its stockpile of unsold vehicles.”
As a longtime Internet veteran and as someone with a keen interest in privacy protection, I have a unique password for almost every site that requires a login.
After 12 years of spending 50 hours a week online, I probably have hundreds of accounts floating around.
Of them, I know the password to startlingly few.
I do not have a central password file.
When I had a handwritten day planner, I used to jot down half a dozen or so of my most vital and easily forgotten accounts, but I haven’t put any of that data on my iPhone, so I only have access to the passwords my memory can hold onto.
My memory, like yours, does not excel at remembering passwords.
I use the “remember me” checkbox on many websites, but when I’m at work, for example, or guesting on an unknown computer, chances are I’m going to get stalled at the firewall.
I am eternally grateful for passsword-recovery options that email me the curious alphanumeric strings that I initially thought were hooky and clever.
Despite my lack of ability to remember the memorable passwords I devise, I am nonetheless irked when a website sends me a reset password link rather than a reminder or, more preferably, the password itself.
The convenience and security of having information mailed to me pleases me every time it works.
The two words I click on most on the Internet are, “Forgot password?”
Mom: “She reads haftorah like nobody’s business.”
Amy: do you know how freaky our friends are? their year-old son has an email address!!
Me: hey Amy? our dog has an email address
Amy: my friend emailed me that she was just kidding
Me: Charley has two, actually
(Names omitted to protect the innocent. Charley, on the other hand: guilty as charged.)