I’ve never had a problem with my plethora of cords, or what they looked like, beside my couch, bed, desk, whatever.  Since getting married, everywhere we live, that seems to be our biggest problem.  A problem that, apparently is on me to solve.  So, in lieu of inventing wireless charging, I had to get my creative juices flowing.

I jokingly Instagrammed this picture, with the subtitle “The Problem and Solution.”  It was a bit misleading, because where that pile of devices, and cords, was also the red chest in the bottom half of the picture, and everything was stacked up on top of it.  Everything.  Again.  Didn’t bother me all that much, but it did bother me that my wife seemed to mention it on a semi-regular basis.   So what do I do about this?

That’s where things get kind of fun.  A couple of days ago, it occurred to me that we don’t keep a lot inside this chest.  Some electronics, some of the original boxes, and a few extra nik-naks we could probably relocate somewhere else.  So it hit me.  I’m a handy guy, with enough tools to be dangerous.  I can fix this.

So came the solution.

I decided I would drill some holes into the back of this chest, set the power strip in there, and run cords from the back of it.  Thus, eliminating the visible clutter, and hopefully creating a happy spouse.

The first thing I had to do was go to a hardware store and buy some spade bits, to be able to drill big enough holes.  Measure some of your plugs before doing this. (Read more in the lessons learned below)  After that, I just had to drill some holes.  I drilled 1 for the power strip, and then I drilled one for each plug the power strip offers, which, for me was seven holes.

I drilled all of the holes in the back, so the chest could still be opened and function as it's original design....A Chest.

After I drilled the holes, I decided I could mount the power strip on the inside to offer a little bit of organization on the inside.  So I got a couple of screws and mounted that bad boy up.

Pay attention to where you mount the power strip. You may wanna leave some room on the end for 'L' shaped plugs.

Then I started wondering.  What are the cords going to do as they come out of the chest.  just dangle there?  Would the wife be happy with that?  Out of caution, I had another creative moment, and attached hooks beside each hole.  Maybe they’ll come in handy.

So, now comes the application.  How is this going to work.  I started to plug in all of my cords, and running them through the holes.  This is where I found out that I probably should have measured all of my plugs before drilling the holes.  I know that probably sounds really obvious, but I work in IT, so it was an after thought to me.

You can see in this image where I had to go back and make some of the holes bigger.

I put everything else back in the chest, and opened and closed it a few times to see what the cables would do.  For the most part, they stayed put.

I closed it, and put everything back to how it would go, minus the cord clutter.  I think it looks pretty slick.

You can see I left the big hunker part of my laptop charger out side of the chest. That's because it gives me more mobility with my laptop when I need to charge. That's really just a matter of preference, and I'm hoping my wife will side with me on this.

So that’s my solution.  Sure.  You have to have a chest, and a similar setup for this solution to work, but really, my hope was to spark your creative side.  Are there places you can hide your cables and cords?  Do it.  It will make people who hate cords happy.

What about all the cables I am not using?

I’m glad you asked.  After the spark of genius I had with the hooks, I went a little bonkers.  I attached hooks inside the closet to house cables, chargers and wires that aren’t necessarily being used ‘all the time’.

Everyone has a closet with junk in it. What's the harm of attaching some hooks?

Mistakes and Lessons Learned:

I made a few simple mistakes along they way.  So, if you want to copy this, read this part too.

1. Measure.  Measure. Measure.  Seriously.  Plugs are bigger than they look.  Seriously.  Measure the plugs before you drill the holes.  It’s a lot more difficult to make a hole bigger.  (At least it is with a spade bit.)

2. Position.  If I had to do it again, I would probably position the power strip more towards the center and with more lift. Plugs are big.  If you look at my pictures, you can see that I actually had to block one plug, because of the shape of one of my charger plugs.

3. Leeway.  I drilled all of my plug holes at 3/4 inch.  If I had it to do again, I would have made all of the holes a little bigger.  (Because I just don’t know what plugs may end up needed in the future.

So.. that’s it.  What do you think?  Any questions? Comments?  Go ahead.  Leave them below.

I love problem solving.  I love it.  As a matter of fact, I like to think I’m really good at it.  So good, it’s probably annoying.  Like, I’m the guy that always wants to help you solve your problem.  Yah.  That’s me.  (More on that in another post.)

I’ve always liked solving problems.  I’ve always liked the challenge.   I haven’t always been awesome at it. (Though, I always thought I was.)

When my daughter started walking, she taught me a lesson, over and over again.

Let me tell you a story.   When she started walking, Gemma loved to wander.  If we took our eyes off of her she’d be gone.  Typically, she’d go into the bathroom, and she’d start playing with, and unraveling the toilet paper roll.  So, after carefully analyzing the situation,  I decided I had a solution.  I took the toilet paper roll off, turned it around, and reattached it.  That way, when she swats at it, it won’t unravel everywhere.  Genius!  Right?

Yah. Genius, until 8 seconds later, Gemma stared me in the eyes, and started swatting the toilet paper in the opposite direction.

See, I learned something that day – Before ‘solving’ a problem.  Think about if you’re really solving a problem.  Think about all the things that could happen with your solution.  Typically, your first solution is not the right solution.

How could this backfire?

How could my solution improve?

How is this just a duct-tape fix?

I want to write.  Problem is, I’m not sure what to write about.  I read books, but I find myself lacking the words to properly review it.

I want to write about life, but if I spent all of my time trying to write about life, I’d miss life.

I want to write, and I’m not sure why.

What can I write about?  Suggestions?

Your Backyard

When you think of slavery, you probably think of a lot of things.  Shackles, the Civil War, Abe Lincoln, abuse, discrimination, a bad time in American history.   You may even harvest a lot of emotions about it.  maybe your family tree leads back to slavery.  Maybe your family tree leads back to slave owners.  The days of slavery were hurtful.  The days where a human was owned by another human are over, thank God those days are over…. Right!!?

Wrong.

There are more slaves today than ever before in the history of humans.  MORE.  The industry makes an estimated $32 billion a year. That’s more than Starbucks, Nike and Google combined!

How does this happen?

A lot of different ways.  A woman desperate to escape poverty is promised a new life in America.  She accepts the offer, and next thing she knows she’s in a brothel.  A young man’s parents were killed in a war.  Next thing you know, he’s snorting cocaine and fighting a grown man’s war.  A young lady was proposed to.  She goes to get married, and ends up a slave to her ‘husband’.  A parent, husband or boyfriend, in efforts to make some money sell thier girls into it.  Not just mature grown women.  I’m talking 6-death.  The average age is 12 years old, but can start as young as 6.

A lot of times they will force these women into using drugs, (Which probably isn’t difficult, as it offers some sort of escape) so, when/if someone tries to rescue them, they have withdrawels, and go back to their pimp/drug supplier/the only thing they know.  Women are sold and forced to sleep with men 20 – 60 times a day!  When they’re younger, their hymens are sewed, to remain ‘virgins’ because that brings in more money.

Where in the world does this happen?  All over.  Atlanta is the number 1 city in America.  But sits at #8 for the entire world.  They are kidnapped, and flown to America.  They are kept under the radar in brothels, in your backyard.  This could be happening just five minutes away from your house.  Yet, we sit comfortably by and ignore it.  Knowledge is power, yet we choose ignorance, because it’s bliss.  Now you know.  You can sit on this.  Odds are good, if you live near a major city, or an airport of any kind, this is happening.  What does our country do about this?  Well, typically, instead of going after the big dogs, we arrest the 17/18 year old girl.  Get her bail and fine money, which is chump change to her pimp, and don’t offer her any help, we just send her back out to the street to be raped, beaten, abused, tortured emotionally and physically.

Do you watch porn?  Did you know that over half of the porn on the internet today is actually a guy with a video camera and a hundred bucks to buy this girl?  Did you know that he’s recording these slaves, and then charging you to watch them on the internet.   Did you know, that your hunger for porn is helping fund the demand for sex slavery?  My guess is you had never thought about that.

There are thousands of places you can go to help fight this.  There are places all over the internet.   Please think about this, and spread the word.  The world needs to know about the biggest slave trade in history happening right behind our backs.

Learn More:

http://www.callandresponse.com/
http://www.notforsalecampaign.org/
http://www.innocenceatlanta.org/
http://www.humantrafficking.org/

I was 17 years old.  Money was tight, as it had been for years now.  Since I was 17, my mom decided it was time for me to start paying rent.  I was ok with that.  December 1st, I paid my rent. (I honestly don’t remember how much. I’m sure that’s a lesson in and of itself).  I was happy, because I figured that would give me a paycheck or two to get gifts for my family. And I did.  I bought gifts for everyone.

On Christmas Eve, I had some friends, and my girlfriend over.  My mom asked me for my December rent.  I told her I had already paid it, and a fight ensued.  She was screaming, I was screaming.  She didn’t know there were gifts from me under the tree.  She was telling me I was too tied up with my girlfriend at the time.  She said that all I did was spent money on weed and my girlfriend.   I told her she had a horrible memory, and I already paid.  I told her if she could stay sober, her memory would be better.  *POW*.  Fist across the face.  It’s how I was punished growing up, and I learned at a young age to never hit a woman.  I didn’t budge.  I stared her in the face and said, “Do. Not. Hit. Me. Again.”  *POW*.  Another one, and another one.  At this point it was flurries.  I did not budge.  When she stopped, she was staring at me.  I turned my head, and spit on the wall, and I saw it.  Blood.  Blood was running down the wall.  I felt the warmth on my face.  I grinned.

“You can’t hit me anymore, I’m bigger than that now.”

“GET OUT, and don’t come back!”

I reached into my back pocket at took out my money.  I don’t remember how much it was, but I remember it was everything I had.  I threw it at her, and left.

I went and got into my friends car, and we drove off.

I had nowhere to go.  I was destroyed.  Not because I had nowhere to go, but because my mom threw me out on Christmas eve.  My heart hurt.  My friend, Katie called her mom, they had a conversation, and she hung up.  She looked at me and said, “We have a spare bedroom.  You can crash at my house tonight.”

I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t really have a choice.  I said, “Thank you.”

When we got to her house, I was able to assess the damage.  My eye was swollen, and my lips were all bloodied.  I had dried blood running down my face.  I was a mess.  Her mom showed me my room, and gave me some of her older sons clothes. (That were like, XLs, cause dude was like 6 feet tall.) We hung out for a little while, and I retired to bed, they told me that breakfast is at 10:00 every Christmas.

Christmas morning, I slept in.  I remember hearing the family get up and go downstairs, but I didn’t want to intrude.  I stayed in bed, replaying the events that had taken shape the night before, and cried.  I imagined my family opening up my gifts, without me.  I imagined my mom talking about me, and no one saying anything because they were scared.  I felt empty.

Around 9:55, I got up, got decent, and went downstairs.  Everyone looked at me, wished me a Merry Christmas, and offered me breakfast.  I sat down at the table and we all ate.  About halfway through the meal, Karen, (The mom) got up, walked over to the tree and picked up 4 gifts.  She carried them over to the table, and put them in front of me.  I didn’t know what to say.  ”Merry Christmas, Andy.”  Everyone was smiling huge.  I cried.

The night before, when I went to bed, they went out, found a store that was still open and bought me gifts.  The essentials.  Socks, beard trimmer, Shirts.

I remember that day so vividly.  I remember how happy everyone looked when I was getting a gift.  I remember being blown away by the ‘family-ness’ that was present that day.

The smallest gesture made my entire Christmas a little easier.  For that, I will always be thankful.

On a side note, Karen was able to be present for my baptism some 8 years later.  I often wonder if she knows that she very possibly planted the first seed.