Things get tangled. There's no escape.

LAW OF ENTANGLEMENT

I have discovered a Law. I came upon it decades ago, while observing string behavior. Yes, string. I’m not talking about that metaphysical super silly string theory but plain old ordinary string.
 
        Ever notice how a bunch of string left unattended in a drawer somehow becomes a matted tangled mess of knotted uselessness, a mass so entwined you need a pair of scissors to sort it out? 

That, my friend, is but one example of the Isaac Law of Entanglement. From the twine in my drawers, to my coiled garden hose, all such intertwining objects will seek to become entangled. Any attempt to undo them only serves to cause a more tenacious tangle.

I cannot calculate the number of times I have dragged the garden hose across the yard only to lose my water pressure at the precise moment I reach my target. Impossibly, a kink will form that cannot be extricated by any amount of yanking, whipping or shaking of the hose. I have to walk all the way back to the source of the kink and physically untangle the mess – which is invariably the farthest point away from where I am trying to water. Water then sprays somewhere that it shouldn’t.

There are exceptions to this rule, however. The tangle will come out on its own accord if I am dressed for work, running late, and happen to have the business end of that bad boy pointed at my person (crotch region). At that precise moment the Law of Entanglement dissolves, the hose will indeed untangle and the unwary waterer will become instantly drenched to the bone and profoundly humiliated in front of friends and neighbors.

       I’m not sure how all this tangling happens, as I’ve never actually witnessed the process, I can only report on the results. For all I know the Tangle Fairy appears and flings a handful of Tangle Dust. The string then wriggles and writhes itself into a tangled mess of spaghetti useful only for a rat’s nest! 

I tell you, it’s Elves and Fairies. It could be.

Or Chaos Theory, I don’t really know.

But this Law applies to much more than merely string and hoses. For example, one night while out on the town, a friend tried to get up from his wrought iron chair. His keys, which dangled from his belt loop, had become nearly inextricably bound to the intricate design fashioned in the back of the chair. He commenced to drag that metal chair right through the bar! I mean restaurant.

          “Wait!” I bellowed.  “You are caught! The Isaac Law of Entanglement has again reared its mischievous head.” 

 He looked at me like a storm of monkeys had flown out my nostrils.  I helped him untangle his keys while explaining the Law in layman’s terms.

I’ve not seen him since. 

There is, of course, another factor that can considerably alter this phenomenon: when you want something to tangle. For instance, if you are working on the roof and happen to drop a snarl of extension cord, as soon as it begins to slide off the roof the Law of Entanglement is negated and that item will indeed fall to earth. In fact, the cord will slide around all manner of obstacles: pipes, flues, toolboxes, paint buckets, dogs, beer kegs, giraffes - you name it, that cord will somehow slip through the gauntlet and plummet earthbound into the nearest hedge, the one with thorns, growing in the bed of Fire Ants.

Furthermore, the likelihood of entanglement increases exponentially depending upon the risk of bodily harm caused by said Entanglement. Id est, if you are dragging vines across the yard, with arms full, it is highly likely that the Entanglement Elves will wrap a strand about your ankles and you will take a spill. 

Try doing it on the roof. Actually, don’t. 

I’ve polled some friends and have made a list of just a few of the typical items that fall prey to the Law. I’m thinking about writing one of those Chicken Soup for the Tangled Soul kind of books and make a gazillion dollars. 

But I digress. Here is the list of things that can tangle, with or without human intervention:

Any kind of cord and itself.

Paperclips. Leave those capricious clips to their own devices and they’ll have an orgy.

Shoelaces and bicycle pedals - usually while pedaling at break-neck speed downhill in heavy traffic. 

Belt Loops and anything you might pass by (preferably not whilst riding the bike).

       The Gear Shift on my Riding Lawn Mower and the chain on the Swing (don’t ask).

       Key rings and anything in your pocket that can be dragged out when you are least suspecting: paper money, lint, prophylactics.

Rowdy puppy paws and brand new rope hammocks (scissors please?).

        Hair and earrings, nose rings, and bling blings.

Christmas tree lights, no matter how neatly you pack them up.

       Kites and anything that interlaces the skyline: power lines, guy wires, tree limbs, little guy ankles.

       Perpetual Motion Balls (that hang on nearly invisible monofilament) .

      So next time you see that bail of tangled yarn in your cupboard, or that orgy of paperclips in your desk drawer, remember that the mysterious laws of the universe are at work – or those Elf Fairy things.