When College Dude had called me last week, it was to request help in getting some application paperwork unstuck. The names of both College Dude and myself appeared on the paperwork and apparently my identity needed to be confirmed.
I had already sent in a mountain of forms accompanied by copies of legal documents proving I was College Dude's dad. What was a faceless phone call going to prove?
Never the less I made the call. After an endless series of prompts by a computerized voice I finally reached a service associate who said she needed to ask me some questions so she could validate my identity and get the stuck paperwork moving. As I supplied answers, I heard the tapping of computer keys on the other end.
"Just a moment sir," the associate said.
I sat in silence for three minutes while some electronic brain reviewed data.
Finally the service associate congratulated me on being who I claimed to be.
Hooray! I was so thrilled to know that I am who I thought I was.
Then the hair on the back of my neck stood up. If a computer can validate my identity based on the answers to telephone questions, then just exactly how much information about me is floating around out there.
1984 has come and gone - and Big Brother is still watching.
