WHAT'S THE PASSWORD?

I remember the first password I ever had to remember:  "Tu pues, poireau."  I had to use it when I wanted to get into a conversation with a "gang" we had when I was in about the 4th or 5th grade.  That was in the days when boys and girls did not mingle on the school grounds.  Actually, when I first went to school, the girls had the sweetheart part of the outside portion.  They were on the street side which, even in those days was paved.  No lie.  The streets were, for the most part, paved when I started school.  There were even sidewalks and closed drainage.  I know, I was spoiled.  That's OK, I'll take it.  We didn't get a radio in our bedroom until we were about 11 or so.  Anyway, back to the password stuff.
Some guys from the Lyman Street section of the "Flats" section of Holyoke used to hang around in one of the corners of the school yard.  This was before the school yard was paved over with asphalt.  All we did was talk because the nuns didn't want us running around and raising dust.  You know how women are.  Especially older, unmarried women.  Now you follow me, I can tell.  So, some of us who did not raise any dust figured, (I think we figured) in our own innocent way that we were raising Hell instead.  Actually, we weren't, except in our shrivelled pea brains.  So, there was this "gang."  I couldn't belong because I lived in South Hadley, way across the river.  But since I had the good fortune of having beat up a guy once, and one of these boys new it, they figured that I could talk to them now and again when they got bored with themselves and had to change the subject.  So they gave me a password.  I don't know why I still remember it.  I never had to use it because the leader couldn't remember what it was that he told me.  I think that he regretted giving it to me because it means, "You stink, idiot" and that made it sound that I was sassing him when I got to the gang for my three minutes of fame.  So anyway, now I got this 24 carat password in a foreign language that I can't use because it doesn't have enough upper case letters mixed in with the lower case on the left of the special character that comes before the underscore that leads to my maternal grandmother's maiden name (all lower case for security reasons) that comes just before  the foul word in a foreign language that doesn't have the verb "to be" and is, therefore, totally unintelligible even to the people who speak it.  So it is really a perfect language for USA passwords.  Except that the Voice from the Kitchen doesn't like it when I have passwords that are foul language in her mother tongue.  Sheeesh, and you think you have problems?
So, for an old man like I am, the password problem in the 21st century is real.  I've tried a lot of ways to remember them all, but that doesn't work.  I've tried writing them down, but then I can't remember where I put the paper.  When I don't use paper, I can't remember where I hid them on my computer.  Therefore I have the problem solved.  I use the lover's phrase that my spouse loves most for everything I have to make secure with a password.
That doesn't solve the mystery of why I can remember a silly password that had no real use from when I was maybe 10 and now I can't remember a password that I composed myself to get into my bank account just 30 minutes ago.  Sometimes I think that it would be smart to get one branded on my left buttock.  Then, I could read it in the mirror, if I had remembered to tell the cowpoke to do it backwards because of the mirror...Oh, boy, I can tell that this is way too complicated already.  I think I'll just stick with A1b2C3Dion@1hartfordSTbehindthe broadleafmapletreethatthebusjustnarrowlymissedat+/-4PMonaThursdayin1943Ithinkitwas
That otta fool 'em!  I bet it even fools you.