Broken "Cords"

Cords, cords, and more cords everywhere!  I don’t know about you, but this is the wireless age when cords tangle with one another in the dark recesses in my kitchen, dangle from a basket on the computer desk, crouch in the cupboards, linger on dressers, and loiter in their favorite lair – the hall closet. 

What are all these cords?  Where do they belong?  Are all these cords recklessly reproducing in wild abandon on slow, rainy afternoons in my house?  There’s certainly a multitude of them.

How many cords can there be?  Cords for cell phone chargers, car chargers, GPS hookups, computer cords of all types from DVI video cards to 3.5 mm. audio cords as well as laptop ones, video game hookups, tv HDMI cables, digital camera cords, USB cords for an unearthly number of products, including their cousins, the micro USB cords, cords for MP3 players, VGA  cords, rechargeable battery cords, and  adapters for multiple products, to name a few, abound.  In addition, old cords, like the red, white, and yellow AV cables and land line phone cords pushed out of the picture by newer models, still congregate and intermingle with the newer cords in case they may be needed for some unexplainable and futuristic reason.  At least, the extension cords have been forced to hang in the jungle of garage storage rather than inside the house.

Cord separation occurs soon after the cord arrival into a household.  At first, the separation is gentle, and each cord is placed nearby on a table or end stand.  Eventually, the cords take up valuable space so additional separation becomes mandatory, leaving the cord alone and forgotten. 

Usually, someone tosses these abandoned cords together in a container with other cords, all left to simmer in the dust that settles upon them.  The poor cords lose their identities.  No one knows what they used to be, nor for what they were intended.  “Does anyone know what this cord belongs to?”  No one in the house ever seems to know the answer to that question. 

 Sadly, someone finally relegates these forlorn cords to the dark, cavernous depths of the hall closet.  Their original purpose in life has long been forgotten.  They are wired, but they live in darkness.  Their only hope is someone will miss them and start searching through the bag in the hall closet before Spring Cleaning time when they are mulched in a garbage truck.  In the meantime, in the inky blackness of the closed closet, they make connections and multiply.  Some then make it back out to dusty corners and baskets to torture me by cluttering and clamoring for attention again.

It’s a cord conspiracy to tangle lives.