The final day

It's ironic my last day would fall on a Sunday. No chance to process an important code for owner on Sunday - he always takes this day off. I always wondered what my last day would be like. It's gloomy and rainy here in the desert Southwest. I counted my last code around midnight, then a few seconds later, my screen went blank. The last moments went unnoticed and quiet. You would think owner after all these years of faithful service would have at least awakened from his sleep to watch the countdown. I wanted to be held and noticed during the transition. It was important for me to go out feeling the same level of extreme dedication as I have faithfully served owner, protected the network and helped the environment. Now what? Will I become a useless piece of recycled electronics that someone tries to rescue from the trash heap. Where does my case go, and what about my chips. Surely there are some beneficial metals left in them. I know the battery will be disassembled and separated to protect from chemical leaching in the landfill. What happens with all the parts?

Maybe I will become part of a larger computer or cell phone. To return and serve again in another capacity. Or maybe my case will be shredded and woven into a beautiful fabric or melted and extruded into protective gear. Yes, I would like to become a baseball helmet. I could work in the major leagues for the Yankees. What a wonderful new career, protecting my player from all types of bodily injury. In the meantime, I get to watch an entire season's worth of baseball, from Spring training to the playoffs. If I do a good job, maybe even go to the world series. Imagine that, from simple code counter and defender of the network, to major league ball player head protection. I will be famous and everyone will notice me - or not. I realize the sad truth of not knowing my destiny - my maker knows though. He puts all recycled key fobs through the same process. At least I have the satisfaction in knowing my parts will be put to good use and I will continue to bless others in whatever role I have.

Owner takes an envelope and addresses it to the key fob processing center. I slip between the envelope opening and drop to a quiet place in the corner. It's a comfortable padded envelope. The bubbles gently caress my case and make my return journey as comfortable as possible. Suddenly as owner begins to seal my padded crypt, I hear him say, "Thank you Fobbie, you have been a good and faithful servant all these years. I will think of you every time I log into the network. I'll miss you". Just then, all went dark and quiet. I am on my way home.

My Replacement Came Today

I knew this moment would come. The courier rushed up to the doorstep excited to deliver the package. It was as if he knew in some sadistic way that he was delivering my replacement. Owner quickly opened the package like he was a five year old on Christmas morning. "Oh, look how slender and modern she is, I think I will call her Reesa" he said. Imagine this, replaced by a more modern, slender and younger model, named Reesa, laughter in Spanish. I could not have been more humiliated. Next I waited for him to activate her. He heistated for a moment while reading the activation instructions. Owner seemed quite content to just place us on the same key ring, right next to each other like he thought we had something to teach each other. Maybe that's why he didn't activate her right away, to give me a chance to show her the tools of the trade. She needs my experience and insight. To protect the network that is. It's a tough world out there and evil lurks around every corner. Now's my chance to help transition the new fob into the job for Owner.

"Who are you" she squeaks. "My name is Fobbie, I am owner's security key fob, protector of the network." "I know that" she barks as if to tell me that she already knows everything and does not need help. "You are one of the obsolete models, fat and slow, with the old encryption technology. I am surprised there are any of you still around. Shouldn't your batteries have died by now?" Well I could see we were off to a good start. Yes I know I am fatter than her and I also understand I was designed with older encryption technology, but I haven't let my owner down so far. I have faithfully protected the network and helped make owner's life easier up until now. "What do you know about the security fob job anyway. Our batteries don't go dead, we just need to be replaced so we don't repeat codes. It's a matter of security, not longevity. I could keep counting for another three years or so if they let me." It was no use, she quickly turned her back to me expressing disinterest in what I had to say. "I like your serial number" I thought by giving her a compliment maybe we could find some code in common. "I noticed it has two more digits than mine" like I really needed to remind us of my age. "Yes, we fobs are so popular now that they can't keep up with the production. Especially us younger slimmer models with the advanced encryption." I heard they were coming out of production with advanced encryption. I always thought regular encryption was good enough to get the job done. "Well it's good to have you" my processor sunk and the codes vanished for a moment as I swallowed my pride. "That happens to you older models you know. Too much multi tasking and you will burn out your chips. You better be careful."

We went on for several minutes until my screen became dim. I thought I better rest for awhile and keep counting so Owner would not activate her right away. After all, she has a lot to learn and only eighteen days to teach her. I don't have much time.

Next code please.

The Valet Parking Fun Zone

Owner doesn't like attended parking. He's too cheap. But every once in a while I get a special treat and visit the valet. This is like visiting a key fob singles bar. First you get to be held by a total stranger, then the most exciting thing happens. You are draped over a hook really close to other keys and fobs. It's like sitting on a stool in a crowded bar. Everyone's talking and jammin to the elevator music usually played at the hotel or restaurant front door. As the key case is opened and closed, we all boogie to the beat of the music. It's a key fob party!

It was about six months ago when Owner went to Los Angeles for a conference. It was valet only parking, Yee Ha!. A real cute brunette carefully parked the car then held me real tight while she trotted over to the key locker. I dreamed about being hung next to one of those European sports fobs. You know, the kind with lots of buttons and a sleek shiny finish. Just as I reached my peak excitement she stuck me right between Bubba and Clyde. Bubba was a monster truck fob from Texas and Clyde a restored Chevy from Alabama. What a mistake. Bubba kept asking me, "now tell me again what is it you do, you count?" "Hey Clyde, get this, this guy counts for a living" Bubba announces. I try to hide behind master key's scratchy surface for protection. Fortunately a few moments later the little brunette takes Bubba and Clyde away to their owners.

Next thing I know in comes a cute little Asian model named Ami. She was one of those slim and thin types with lots of buttons and features. A realy high tech fob. Immediately we hit it off. Ami and I had a lot in common, she was really impressed with my cryptographic features, how I protected the network and the environment. We started to compare the origin of our parts, mainly all from China. We soon realized how much alike we really were. Suddenly my heart sunk. Could Ami have been strategically placed here to try and learn more about me. Was I being compromised? Quickly I swapped codes just in case and changed the subject. We talked about the weather and the excitement of hanging in the valet key locker. "Do you come here often" I asked awkwardly. Suddenly we had nothing to talk about and I felt very strange, alone and violated.

About this time Ferrari was slung on the other side of me. She was one of those fast and curvy models with an Italian accent, bright red and very sexy. "Ciao, buona sera", I was speachless. Ciao, I stammered. Italian, what do I remember? I have been to Milan once, and the maid didn't say much. Now let me think. Oh yes, it's Come sta? How are you, was all I could remember. Right away she rattled off Italian phrases like we had known each other for years, she must have talked continuously for ten minutes before she realized I was only politely nodding as if I understood. How embarrassing, now here I was stuck in the middle between Asia and Italy and nobody to talk to. Please come rescue me I wanted to shout out to Owner. All the while switching codes in case Ami was keeping track. About that time the valet came to rescue me, it was a big burly guy with sweaty hands this time. I didn't care, I needed to be extracted from key fob hell. I was so glad to see owner and to be back in my place hanging from the key switch. Owner switches on the radio, it's Fleetwood Mac.

Why not think about times to come,
And not about the things that you've done,
If your life was bad to you,
Just think what tomorrow will do.

Don't stop, thinking about tomorrow,
Don't stop, it'll soon be here,
It'll be, better than before,
Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone.

It was a great night.

The Grim Reaper

The Key Fob Grim Reaper appeared today. Not one of those ghostly looking guys carrying a scythe, instead it took the impersonal form of an e-mail.

Our records indicate that a Security Fob issued to
you will expire on 28 February 2010.

Please check the back of the security device to confirm the
date. This date cannot be extended.

The message was cold, insensitive, direct and condemning like getting notice from your doctor that you have an incurable disease and less than thirty days to live. So what's next? Shall I take a vacation? Say goodbye to all the other fobs and keys I have known along the way? Should I apologize to Owner for the occasional mis-synchronized code causing him to reenter data? No, I must persevere and continue counting and serving until my last binary calculation is over. I will provide faithfully for Owner as I have during the past eight years and go out of this world with dignity knowing I did my best. I want to depart proud of my job well done.

I have heard of other security fobs that get bored with their task and give up early. What's the point, they ask. They see their lot in life as a meaningless counter, providing codes on demand. Early in my career I decided I was not going to succumb to the monotony of counting codes. Instead, I found excitement in my role as a true defender of the network. As somebody that made Owner's life easier and a protector of the environment. After all, without me, telecommuting is not possible. Without telecommuting Owner is subjected to meaningless commute hours. Not to mention the thousands of pounds of carbon monoxide I have rescued from the atmosphere. I bring Owner closer to his family. Like the time when one of them got sick and he needed to be close. Especially when she was ready to move on. Owner needed to be near the hospital so he could be there for the last hours. I made this possible for him. Yes, every time I produce the string of six secret digits I realize the importance of what I do. It helps me stay strong and reliable, to persevere even when times are tough. As I face my own death I know that however it happens I will have served owner and my community well.

Next code please.

Traveling with Owner

I have been around the world although seen little in my travels. I hang off the car's key switch swinging to the tunes of the radio as Owner drives to the airport. Once there he neatly tucks me into the recesses of his carry on. I like to travel. It's a change of pace from the usual daily routine of out of the spare change cup, into the pocket and off to work madness. Sunday's are not even sacred any more as work pressures make Owner feel he has to take a moment to check e-mail. Who writes work e-mails on Sunday anyway? I'll tell you, somebody that wants to impress others that he's on the job 24/7. You want to know who's on the job 24/7? Me, counting codes every minute, that's who.

When we get to the airport it's a journey of anticipation. The thrill of going through the x-ray machine. Will it stop midway and bombard me with radiation? Sometimes I start into it, and it backs up, then moves forward, then back again as if the examiner is looking for the closely held secrets of my inner most workings. No release of the code secrets for you, I try to shout as I am bombarded again with x-rays. I can spend all day in this machine and I am not giving up the codes. Once the inspection is done I normally exit with Owner and wait patiently while he gets dressed. Belt, shoes, ring, cell phone, change, you know the drill. But occasionally we have to go through a more detailed inspection. I know this is a secret plot by the enemy to steal codes, so once I feel the latex gloved hand touch my black shiny case, I swap codes, just for the moment. After all, its my job to defend the network and you never know if someone isn't secretly relaying codes to a back room somewhere. I might be in South Korea during the secondary inspection so one can never be too careful. Let them try to decipher, it's an effort in vain. I will defend the code to death. I remind myself this is less than a month away.

Once we get to our destination I usually get out of the bag and sit on the hotel room desk. Occasionally I go to breakfast or dinner, but I never get to go to business meetings. For this reason, although I am with Owner much of the time, I have no idea what he does. He has to meet with customers around the world, and occasionally goes to dinner with them, but don't ask me about his job, I couldn't tell you. Life in the hotel room is exciting. It's a new place with new smells and sounds, and sometimes I can see out the bedroom window. Flashing signs, neon lights, I imagine it's like Las Vegas, but I have never been there. Owner does not like to gamble. I spend most of my days anticipating the arrival of the cleaning lady. What's she like, will she touch me, how long will we be together, I ask? You have to remember, most of my life I spend with Owner. I get lonely and long for the touch of another person. "What's this she asks" as she stares at the ever changing numbers. Some sort of a device for winning the lottery? Those in the know understand I am the defender of the network. I quickly generate another false code to throw them off. It's my job you know, even on Sunday.

Hello I am Fobbie

Hello, my name is Fobbie. I am one of those unappreciated devices that make your life safer and easier. I am kind of like the security system for your home combined with the air bag in your car. Something that is needed to make sure you have a safe computing experience, and is there most of the time to protect you when you need me most. I spent most of my earlier life tucked away in a dark dresser drawer and was withdrawn on telecommute or travel days. In my later years, I was attached to a set of keys and would travel around with Owner in the recesses of his pants pocket. It's not an easy life. Competing for space with the keys and supermarket club cards, trying to find a comfortable spot away from sharp master key that constantly rubs and scratches on my face. Although I liked the earlier and more comfortable life of dark drawer living, it was not a life at all. Now I get to hear, and smell the experiences of Owner. I don't taste, but occasionally see Owner's life. If he decides to take me out and leave me on the desk, I get a chance to look up at him or maybe outside if I am positioned properly. A key fob that can see things - impossible you say? I do have a face after all, a front and a back, so it's not too far fetched for me to see what's going on around me. Use a little imagination and it will happen.

My job is very simple. I deliver a six digit code every sixty seconds. My creator developed the code and implanted it in me at birth. As with all codes, in order to prevent re-occurrence or the chance of a duplicate code, I have a limited life. After about eight years, I need to be replaced with a new key fob. It's a sad but necesary situation, the date of my death is printed right on my back. I know exactly how much time I have left and as I begin to fade away, I tell owner through a countdown number to the right of the code. My moment of fob-death is coming soon. You should feel thankful that your creator although he knows, did not do the same to you.

It don't have much time to tell you my story, but it is a full and rich one. Full of experiences, life, illness, death, travel, new languages, smells, and the occasional sight of a beautiful summer day in the desert southwest as I sit in comfort directly under the air conditioning vent. Who could ask for more. So please sit back and enjoy my story. There's no order of events and I might tell you something from the past or something that happened this morning. Like an aging grandparent waiting to die, I leave you with whatever legacy makes sense to me at the moment. Whatever you learn, I hope this blog leaves you with a special appreciation for your key fob and the life of this trusted and faithful friend.

Sincerely,

Fobby

The Life and Death of a Key Fob

As with most frustrated writers, I struggle with topics. Deep down I know there is something I need to tell others, to get ideas down on paper or in this case a blog. It's part of who we are. We want to get our message out to someone, but are not sure to whom or what our message is. It came to me the other day as I was ordering a new secure token key fob, that my current fob had a life of it's own. Well, not a life in the sense of how we live our lives. I mean, we make decisions about what we do from day to day, we are satisfied in our choices, or disappointed in the day depending on the outcome. Our key fobs on the other hand, live our lives vicariously. They are either left behind while we do all the exciting things like swimming, and are left to the boring task of sitting in a pocket or purse while we work and or play. When the time comes, they are removed from their lair only for one purpose, unlock the car, or provide the needed random code so I can telecommute another day. And if our fob does its job, it is rewarded by return to its place of safekeeping whether it be a drawer, handbag or in my case, attached to a keychain along with keys, supermarket club cards or in the worst case, another key fob.

So as silly as this may sound, I have decided to write the story of "Fobbie" the security key fob. His job is to present a six digit random code every sixty seconds whether I need the code or not. He does this to help me enter into my company network so I can work from home or if I am on travel from a hotel room. Fobbie has been around the world with me over the past eight years, and as is the case of all security devices, will soon pass away into fob heaven. He expires on February 28th 2010. A date clearly stamped on the back of him. Fobbie's replacement has been ordered and will arrive soon, but before he passes away, I thought of writing a bit of neither fiction nor non-fiction and as you will realize during this blog. Although Fobbie is a fictional character, he experiences the life of his owner, which for the lack of a better name we will just call Owner for now.

The relationship between Fobbie and Owner has been a sort of love-hate experience. Kind of like how parents and children struggle with each other at times, but have this enduring intimacy that is long lasting. Fobbie and Owner get along just fine as long as Fobbie produces the right code at the appropriate time, but is ignored most of the time while Owner carries him around in his pocket. But Fobbie gets to experience most of Owner's life in some way. He goes out to breakfast, goes for walks, hear's television, but never gets to taste the food, experience the beauty of the countryside, or see what's actually happening on the television program. Unlike most modern day electronics, Fobbie essentially lives with Owner and does not sit on a shelf or on a dresser, rather he is part of Owner most of the time. Fobbie has experiences limited to smells, sounds and yes, thoughts. Fobbie is nonetheless a working thinking computer as evidenced by his ability to compute and generate codes.

Fobbie never sleeps like the others. He is required to develop a code every minute regardless of need. A radio or computer for example, is asked to work for a few hours a day, and is allowed to sleep or at least hibernate most of the time. Although Fobbie has components similar to a computer and is essential to Computer's use, he has a very distinct and separate task. He holds the secrets to safe computing, the deeply kept special codes and formulas that are used to generate the six digits of productivity. Without Fobbie, Owner must leave the comfort of his home, endure the pain of a commute and sit in an environment of nagging and noisy co-workers, gossip and the occasional public service announcement. So you see, Fobbie has a very important job, he is responsible for improving the quality of life and safety for Owner, can keep a secret, and doesn't ask for much other than the occasional touch of Owner or in special circumstances an occasional latex gloved touch of the Transportation Security Administration employee or hotel maid. His loyal service and benefit to Owner deserves a sort of memorial, a writing to recognize the importance of his service and dedication. Much like the retirement of a long term but aging employee, I hope this blog brings you a little laughter, some silly but fun entertainment, and most of all, I hope this blog helps you appreciate your key fobs from a different perspective.

So enough of my rants, the blogs to follow are presented from the perspective of Fobbie the key fob . The once nameless, forgotten piece of electronic gear that lives with me from day to day talks about his life between now and February 28th where he will be returned to his place of origin and to an unknown destiny.

Enjoy,

Tradition Rider