By Stephanie Lewis
Have you heard? Yahoo recently issued a warning to change our passwords due to compromised email accounts by dangerous hackers. There’s just one problem — to switch your password to something new, you need to remember the old one. Bad news because I recall contemplating making mine a Jewish food combo because I’m always hungry, and nobody would ever guess that. Apparently not even me.
I’ve already tried inputting, “BagelsAndLox” and “ApplesNHoney” but neither worked. I also remember thinking too many people knew my childhood dog’s name was Fluffy so I picked a favorite Jewish actor instead for my security question. But “AdamSandler” and “BenStiller” failed to work and typing in the actress who played Tzeitel in Fiddler on the Roof didn’t do a darn thing either — probably because she’s just the poor daughter of a milkman with no dowry.
So, because I’m locked out of my own email, the hackers (and as poetic justice would have it, these ARE Jewish hackers!) are certainly having a field day wreaking havoc with my personal correspondence and running amuck through my photos. My only plan is to somehow “counterhack” (If that’s even a word? High-tech people: your consensus?) into my own account (while the hackers either take a Shabbos nap, dance a hora, or argue over who ate the last raspberry rugelach) and then quickly change my password to some random Christian holiday like Ash Wednesday or Good Friday — something they’d never guess, triumphantly regaining control!
I imagine hacking is lonely work so they must do it in pairs. I’d like you to meet “Mr. and Mrs. Hackenburg.” Let’s listen in.
Mr. Hackenburg: Will you get out of her Nordstrom’s account and her high school reunion emails already, Ethel? We have a job to do — let’s just get in, get out, and get on with the identity theft. (Rubs hands together)
Mrs. Hackenburg: Shame she never lost those last 5 pounds to fit into this halucious gold lamé dress. Look at this thing — ungapatchka much? Totally inappropriate for this occasion. And I don’t think I want to take on her name if I have to use her height and weight on my driver’s license too.
Mr. Hackenburg: Focus Ethel, focus.
Mrs. Hackenburg: (pouting) We never go out anymore. Day in and day out, it’s just hack, hack, hack. Hacking my life away. I shoulda listened to my mother and married that Virus Creator shlepper. It woulda been more exciting sending “I Love You” attachments that messed up everyone’s hard drive.
Mr. Hackenburg: Stop giving me flack over this hack and stay on track.
Mrs. Hackenburg: Morris, you know I always have your back, but c’mon it’s time to hit the sack. You’ll have a coughing attack.
Mr. Hackenburg: It’s a hacking cough! Now stop being such a yakker, put down that matzo cracker and get to work, you Slacker Hacker!
Mrs. Hackenburg: Alright already, alright. But you’re taking me on that cruise after this. And getting me this dichroic glass menorah on Etsy that she just ordered. Oh look, her Visa bill also shows weekly therapy and massages. Such a life.
Mr. Hackenburg: Wow, Six kids? Not even orthodox. What was she thinking? No wonder she needs therapy and massage. And look at this answer to her security question — who has a childhood dog named Gene Wilder? Nu??
Mrs. Hackenburg: Haha. Looks like she also googled, “Easy Pesach recipes that will fool your guests into thinking you slaved. “I’ve a good mind to email this article to her entire Seder guest list.
Mr. Hackenburg: Let’s keep our priorities straight here, Ethel. What’s this? She has the name of a Jewish handyman in her contacts! Wow. There’s such a thing??
Mrs. Hackenburg: (gasps) Oh no, Morris! Look at this. In her Sent folder . . . an exposé about Jewish husband/wife hackers that’s addressed to L’CHAIM magazine. Yikes! What do we do now?
Mr. Hackenburg: The only thing we can do Ethel — let’s get the “hack” outa here and start going back to synagogue to pray.
Stephanie D. Lewis writes for Huffington Post and pens a humor column at OnceUponYourPrime.com.