I’ve Got the Password Blues. So Do You.

 I’m sure I am not the only one struggling with passwords on the Internet. I decided to write a song about it.

Password Blues

I’ve got the password blues, I can’t get  in.

My bank account is frozen and my wallet’s too thin,

What can I do? This just isn’t  fair.

I wrote it down some place, but I don’t know where.

 

Refrain:

Password Blues, please let me in.

Password blues, I don’t know my PIN.

Password blues, I lost my long list.

According to the Internet, I just don’t exist.

 

“Forgot Your password?” Now here’s where to click.

This whole awful process just makes me sick.

They texted my phone. But where’d I put  that?

I’ll have to call the bank and have a long chat.

 

They’ll give you a password but please don’t explode.

With capitals and numbers you just can’t decode.

It will pop up always in a a password app.

But when you need it, what happened to that?

 

Facial recognition, the new tech religion

Will solve this problem, require no decision.

But I’m wearing a mask or maybe a hat.

The website looks and asks: Who the heck is that?

 

 

To prove who you are and show you aren’t a trickster,

They’ll ask: How many cars are in this picture?

I just don’t know. My idea is better.

Give me your address, and I’ll mail you a letter.

-0-

 

I wrote a song in 2008 called “Blogger Blues” after a music host asked for a Labor Day song that wasn’t about manufacturing, mining or farming.  Immediately, my own profession came to mind. The song is not about me, but I know people in this situation.

Blogger Blues

My editor told me, we have to let you go.

We can’t sell papers anymore, we need a website pro.

Now I’m a blogger, a lonely blogger. I’ll be a blogger til I die.

 

If you go online, I asked him, why can’t you charge a fee?

 He said, haven't you heard? The Internet is free.

Now I'm a blogger,  a lonely blogger. I'll be a blogger till I die.

 

I've got 10,000 friends on Facebook. I'm on Tick Tok night and day.

I'm number one on Google, but I can't get no pay.

‘Cause I'm a blogger, a lonely blogger. I'll be a blogger till I die.

My wife brings home the dough. Where she gets it I don't know.

I wash, I clean, I cook the beans,

And she wants them done just so.

 I'm a blogger, a lonely blogger. I’ll be a blogger till I die.

-0-

It was heartwarming to watch the Halifax County High School band stage its two-week summer camp before the start of school.

Gilbert Baskerville, the band leader, and others taught the fundamentals of band music, formations and marching at the middle school (while the high school is being rebuilt.)

The 60 kids seemed to enjoy the camaraderie and the music instruction, and their parents probably liked them doing something so constructive. A lot of adults volunteered for lunches and other activities.

Go Comets!