Parrothead Ramblings

Now, THAT'S what I'm talking about. This morning's version of the cement pond.

My pool builder sent not one but two guys out here Wednesday to try and figure out just what the hell the problem was with my Kermit The Frog-looking damned swimming pool. The first guy immediately announced that the pump was not working properly - it didn't "sound right". Like I would know that, Dickweed. I never had one before. How am I supposed to know it shouldn't sound like that big-ass air compressor over at the Goodyear store? Dude takes it apart and finds a loose bolt in it. No, I don't mean one that wasn't tightened properly. I mean one that wasn't supposed to to even be there at all. FOD, for you ex-Air Force types like me. A big, new-looking one, about 1 1/2" long with a half-inch drive and a rubber washer. Of course, the guy blames me: "It musta been in the pool. Got sucked up by the vacuum cleaner."

Bullshit. Ain't mine, pool boy.

Whatever. No harm done. He also pulls out what looks to be a squashed, dead rodent. Turns out it's a glob of Golden Retriever hair of sufficient size to build an entirely new dog. Dammit, Scully! I was wondering why you had that lovely aura of chlorine about you. Guess I'll have to stop leaving the pool gate propped open. Oh, and he found a rock as well. One that somehow made it through the filters and into the impeller.

So, he took all that shit out, fixed an air leak on a pipe joint, and fired 'er up. Wow! It really is pretty quiet, after all. And it pumps a whole shitload more of water than it did before.

"There ya go, Crime Dog. Just let 'er run, and by in the morning the pool will be.....well, maybe 50% better."

All right, dude. But stay by the phone. The Fetching Mrs Crime Dog is having phriends over tomorrow night, and both our asses are in the slam if this pool is still the color of pond scum.

So we diligently and lovingly brushed the silt from the sides and the bottom that night. The thing just got cloudier. And more green. I got up yesterday morning and.....

Still green. Looks like lime Gatorade

My ass, if it's 50% better. I checked the chlorine with that little gizmo with the red shit you pour in, and sure enough the chlorine is low. I threw a couple of those gigantic Tylenols that smell like Clorox into the skimmer.

I worked from home all day, and walked out to look at that stupid pool about twenty times.

Still green. Now its lemon-lime Gatorade.

Finally, it's like 4:30PM. I went out to water some plants. Didn't even look at the fershlugginer green-ass pool. Disgusted. As I'm watering an orange tree, I steal a glance out the corner of my eye.

What the.....it's BLUE!

Somehow, in the hour since I last dragged my frustrated lily-white ass out to there, the friggin' pool turned bue. Tahoe blue.

I dashed over there and gawked. It's gorgeous! Crystal clear, pristine, it looks like someone drained the Gatorade and filled it with Dasani. In something like one hour, tops.

Phriends, Crime Dog's Margaritaville West Cement Pond is OPEN FOR BUSINESS!!!!!

We have since named the vacuum cleaner thing "Hal 9000." Seemed only right to give it a dignified name, after the yeoman's work it performed over a nearly 24-hour period.

Just so long as it doesn't lock me out.

"Open the pool gate, Hal."

I can't do that Dave....er, I mean, Crime Dog.
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