by Larry
Harrison Copyright � 2005 by Larry Harrison. All rights
reserved.
There are all kinds of secrets.
Children say, "Cross my heart, hope to die. I promise not
to tell."
Your wife gives you $100 a week for your expenses. Each
week you hold back ten dollars, until you have saved the
needed amount to buy an attachment for your camera. Then
you take the secret money out of the secret compartment in
your wallet. Off to the mall you go.
Then we go up higher in the echelon of secrets -- the
federal government of a country. These secrets are not only
secret, but top secret.
Secrets, secrets, secrets. Of course, the secrets are made
to protect us.
Without holding back any further, this leads me to secrets
and awards programs. Now, you may ask, "Are there top
secrets within the awards programs?" I must answer this
with an abrupt "yes." I have seen them. I must admit
that my first acquaintance with a top-secret awards program
was quite a shock. Most places block you from ever getting
in by means of a user name and password. But this was
different.
In November of 2004, I began my quest for awards. I, as
others have done in the past -- you tell the truth now --
skimmed through the disqualifications and criteria. Yes, I
did. I skipped the purpose and the rest of this anatomical
body with many different parts (an awards site is a living
thing, you see). As soon as I get to the application form,
I begin my typing. I get all the way to the bottom, and
then I see something very scary. "You forgot the secret
word." To make matters even worse, the warning is in red.
Not just red, but blood red. In other words, "Do NOT go
beyond this point." If I try to escape, will I get the
dreaded Awardum Secretum Wormus? I must find this
secret word.
I go back to criteria -- very logical. Nothing. I go to
the disqualification page -- ummm, logical. But again, I do
not see the secret word -- nothing. I go back to the
application. At the very top, I see instructions that if I
went to this page without having gone through the purpose
page, my application would be denied. Fear was before my
face. I could tell it was fear because I was looking at it
in the mirror. Fear was staring back at me. The last time
I was denied, I was told that I would have to wait five
years. I really did not know if the awards program would
even be present in five years. All right, I stretched it; I
had to wait 6 months.
Sorry, I was a little off track.
I backed out and went to the purpose page. I went to the
graphics page, the ethics page, the copyright page, and on
and on and on. The application page never showed up. As a
matter of fact, the secret word never showed up. I backed
out to the purpose page. Well, maybe I missed something. I
tried again. Again, I see nothing. "OK," I say to myself.
"Where is it?" I start all over from the very first
entrance page for the awards program. I search each page.
Nothing. I go to each page, and click the review source
button. I click the "find" button. Still, I see nothing.
Now, I am getting mad. Where is that SECRET WORD?
I take a deeeep breath. I count to ten. I exhale. Let's
do this again -- a fresh view with planning. I do not care
about the award any longer. My reward will be locating
that secret word. I do not care if this kills me -- I love
challenges. I move my cursor across each page. I go to the
disqualification page. I see the word "criteria." It's a
link. You could not tell this was a link. The word was not
underlined nor of a different color. This clicks me to a
criteria2 page. I come across the words, "Now is the time
to apply for the award." Again, there was neither
underlining nor change in color of the font. I click. It's
the application page with no red warning sentence, but a
statement to type in the secret word. The secret word was
in parenthesis at the end of this sentence. The secret word
was "Secret."
I had searched for an hour and a half. I was not going to
be beaten. I won. Not the award, but I found the secret
word. My award should have been a white space within a
frame. I would always know what it was for. I would have
told my visitors that it was a Top Secret Award.
I have come across several sites which required the secret
word or secret phrase, or be disqualified. The
majority of the award sites states that the main purpose is
that it requires an applicant to read everything. I try. I
mean it. I really try to read everything, but I cannot.
Once I have read criteria page 1, and then have to read
criteria pages 2, 3, and 4, I am tired. Then, I must read
the disqualification pages 1, 2, and 3 -- sorry, but this is
too much. I am guilty; I skim and scan the pages. Why do I
keep going? I really want that award. I love it. It is so
different and nice.
I tried using the secret word on my site in the beginning.
I disqualified three very nice sites right at the "get-go."
I did the big "DISQ" just because of that stupid secret
word. I immediately removed this from my application.
If you have the secret word on your site, don't hide it. If
you want an applicant to read the criteria, place the word
into your criteria. If you want the applicant to read the
disqualifications, place another secret word on this page.
Do you really need a secret word? This is your decision. I
may or may not apply to your site. In reality, what was the
real purpose of the awards program? Have we forgotten?
Again, your decision.
Larry
Harrison is a retired U.S. Naval veteran with 25 years
of service, who is now a middle school social studies
teacher. He presently has an awards site (Amateur
Astronomy Awards Program) and a personal site (My
Telescopes and CCD Cameras).
Larry is
also an editor for DMOZ.org (editor for approximate
2500 web sites), a continuing education instructor for basic
HTML, WebRing owner of Astrophotography Tutorials,
and an evaluator for Vision Site Design Awards.
