Cutting The Cord (All Of Them)

I like to think that when it comes to technology, I have a little bit more knowledge than just the average Joe. I'd like to think that, but recently it's come to my attention that I'm losing my tech savvy bit by bit. And I blame it all on the damn cords.


If you give me a box, with a single piece of electronic equipment, I can probably put it together. More than likely, unless it's seriously complicated, I can even manage it without directions. One single piece. At a time. Easy peasy.

But when you have husbands with television addictions (It's not an addiction, he can stop any time he wants. Unless they make a bigger tv.) plus teenagers and 'tweens, those single pieces of equipment begin to multiply. Soon you have DVR boxes, smart tv's, smart phones, laptops, tablets, hand held game systems, stationary game consoles, electronic readers, mp3 players, sound bars, surround sound, and the list continues. As long as all of those components stay in their rightful places, we all handle cohabitation just fine.

Excuse me, can I get just ONE more power strip please?

But unplug them to move and mix up just a few things in the same box and, well, crap.

Where the hell did all these cords come from? And why do they have to be almost-but-not-quite the same size for multiple things so that you think it's the right cord but trying to jam it into the plug isn't working and you only notice it after you set it down next to the right cord?

So I've come up with a brilliant solution. Color coordinate all these devices. See, the laptop cord has a pink cord and the plug in the back of the computer is also pink. The tablet has a blue charging cord, smart phones are red, and surround sound is gray. Considering there are dozens of colors, no device would have to have the same cord color. I know, brilliant, right?

Another upside to this system: FINALLY being able to de-clutter junk drawers from those unknown cords. No more jumbles of black chargers, cables that remain anonymous, or cords that have been in there so long they would have just been sold with the house rather than try to find their rightful places.

Plus, think of all the calls you'd eliminate from less tech savvy relatives that ask you (obviously the technology guru since you were born 30 years later than they were.) how to get this hooked up. Just plug colored cord into colored plug on device and voila! Instant  tech savvy-ness. (Is that a thing? I might have made it one if not.)

So what are you supposed to do since my obviously brilliant plan is not an actual thing? There's only one solution, really. You must move each piece of equipment, one at a time. Then you will ensure that everything remains intact, plugged in, without any cord confusion. Sure, some people might ask why you don't just label each cord when you disconnect but I say, "Holy cow, do you know how many extra minutes that would take?" If you decide that moving each piece of electronic equipment separately is too time consuming and tedious, you could always pack each piece in it's own box. Yeah, sure, you might have a couple (dozen) boxes more than you would have had, but surely it's worth it, right?

By the way, anyone want to help me move?

This end up. Or down?

Channeling Your Inner Insensitivity

Unless you've been living under a boulder, you've probably heard that Prince is dead. (Pssst, quick side bar, wasn't he "The Artist Formerly Known As Prince"? And was that the same as when he changed his name to that weird symbol which didn't have a name and that's why he was the artist formerly blah blah blah? I'm confused. When did he become "The Artist Known As Prince Again Because He's Not The Artist Formerly Known As Prince Anymore Possibly Because He Got A Clue And Realized How Stupid It Was Or More Likely That It Was Really Hard To Sign That Symbol On All The Important Paper Stuff"?) Anyway, yeah, so he's no longer among the living anymore.

Cue the sad symphony music. 

And 17 billion artist tributes of Purple Rain.

Okay, so I guess I'm just a cold, heartless farce of a human being because I am completely over hearing about this. Seriously. Enough already. I don't need to know the minutiae of this whole procedure. (I barely need to hear the basics.) I don't need hourly updates.

"Cause of death STILL unknown, but an autopsy will determine the cause."

"The remains have been transported to the morgue, where an autopsy is slated to be performed, so that we can ascertain the cause of death."

"The two pathologists who are vying for the case are now doing rock, paper, scissors to determine who will perform the autopsy that will determine the cause of death."

"They are now performing rock, paper, scissors again since the best two out of three was a draw. This final hand gesture could make one pathologist's career if he is the one who will perform the autopsy on Prince, which will determine the cause of death."

And on and on and on.

We get it. He's dead. We don't know why. But it's sad. So sad that every artist who is on the top 40 charts right now, or ever has been, is doing a cover of (insert a Prince song, probably Purple Rain or Little Red Corvette) as a special tribute to the musician who nobody remembered until he died. Oops, sorry, that was probably a little harsh if not truthful. But since I'm already being honest, let's take it a step further, shall we?

The man was a weirdo. And hey, that's ok. I'm all for your freak flag flying high as long as it doesn't involve hurting people or animals. But now we're just supposed to idolize the man because he made some hits in the 90's that will forever live on and serve as his legacy? Meanwhile, other news is happening in the world, but because it doesn't trump the juicy tidbit of a dead musician, no one hears about it.

If you think I'm overreacting, consider this: When the news broke that he had died, me and the family were driving to vacation. We were in a car, not near a television, just listening to some tunes when our phones started pinging notifications about Prince's death. And they weren't even Prince Fan Apps either. (If they made them, I wouldn't know but there's an app for everything these days, right?) By the time we got to our destination, I was already sick of hearing about it, and that was due solely to satellite radio hosts and social media.

On top of that, now I see this meme 10,000 times on my FaceBook wall:

It's uber creepy that he wrote a lyric so fitting for his own death.

And then there's this one:

Okay, I'll admit, it's a pretty drink....If you like the taste of sadness.

Rest in peace Prince. Or, uh, symbol that represents your name after you decided to change it. May your days now be filled with purple rain, raspberry berets, and lots of partying like it's 1999. Just as long as I don't have to hear about it.