So I know the sky didn't fall. yet. But if it's up there, surely it has to come down here.
Let me explain. Here is the long version. Ready?
Gram's pool is a mess. A mess. I have been trying to get it right for 3 years. Years, as you may know, are the sum of months, which are the sum of weeks, which are the sum of days. A long 3 years.
When you swim in it, it's sorta like liquid mountain climbing. Webbed footed creatures would be able to break new records with the particulate level in this pool. Every flap of the foot would be like a track and field starting gate.
This stuff would take forever in an hourglass. It would slow down time. As a matter of fact, it is probably my grandmother's pool water, in some sort of multi-dimensional hourglass, the outside of which is constructed of a turtle shell, that has been tracking the time I have spent working on the freakin pool.
Oh yeah, that idea you're thinking right now, I tried that. And that.
Now, after 3 long years of fighting the good fight AGAINST filling it in (which, by the way is like hiding chocolate under dog poop), and, instead, just cleaning it up, we were close.
Chemicals upgraded - check.
Sand changed - check.
Hose repairs (2 backflush, 6 vacuum) - check
Pool drained - yeah, that, well . . .
Joel: I can do that.
Joel's Mom: No. No you probably shouldn't do that. The plaster cracks. The pool rises out of the ground.
Joel: No really. You just need to rent a pump.
Mom: where does the water go?
Joel: I'll find out.
Joel find's out: the sewer access pipe in front of the house. No problem. Let me just go locate that real quick. Hmm. Somewhere around here. Hmm. No. There? No. Hmm. I think someone is moving it. Every other house in the neighborhood has one. Hmm. I guess I could dig.
Joel's Mom: No. You probably shouldn't do that.
Joel: Why not? How hard could that be?
Mom: Well you could hit a gas line. Or an electrical line. Or a water pipe.
Joel thinks to himself, sewer pipes are way bigger than all those other things. Surely, if I am going to hit something, it would be the bigger thing, not to mention the added advantage of actually looking for it.
Mom: We should probably just have a plummer come out.
Joel tries anyway. Digs. Gramma. Mom. Wife. All watching. Wife even starts helping. Nope. Hmm. No. New hole. Nope. Hmm. Most of the rocks in the yard moved. Hmm. Deeper hole. Oh look, late mesozoic fossils. Score 1 for evolution and zero for God for not helping me find the missing sewer pipe.
Mom: We should call a plummer.
Joel: We could totally empty the water down another sewer line. Maybe where the washing machine drains?
Mom: And flood the house?
Joel: No. The washer drains just fine there.
Mom: Yeah now.
Joel: But . . .
Mom: We should call a plummer. What if we need to know where the sewer is for something else.
Joel: Okay. Call a plummer.
several days, weeks and months pass. No plummer is called.
89 year old gramother recruits neighbor with plumbing sign on his truck. Neighbor plummer, also apparently part mole that is unable to see in the daylight, puts a stick in the ground, right where I had been digging.
Gramma: It only took him a few minutes.
Gramma's meaning: Joel, you kinda suck.
Joel: So I guess now we just need to rent a pump and some hose.
Mom: Um. The pump could break. There may be more to it than you think. Plus the plaster cracking and the pool lifting out of the ground. Why don't we just hire someone? Is there anyone that will do that?
Joel: I could just . . .
Mom: No. Let's just hire someone.
Several days and weeks pass. The hourglass of particulated pool water is inching viscously down the glass. Drrrrriiiiiiippppppp.
Joel: Got anybody yet.
Mom: Not yet.
Joel does research. Finds several places that will do pool maintenance and will more than likely drain the pool.
Joel: Here's the number.
Mom: Where did you find these guys.
Joel: The internet. highly rated, too.
Mom (suspiciously): The internet?
Joel: Oh yeah. Highly reviewed. Here's another number. Highly reviewed too.
Mom: Where . . .
Joel: The internet, Mom.
Mom (suspiciously): Oh. Hmm.
Phone numbers sit on kitchen table for days and weeks.
Drrrrriiiiiiippppppp.
Sister: We should fill it.
Mom: We should fill it.
God: Just fill it already.
Joel: God, why are there fossils where my grandmother's sewer pipe should be?
God: Ha ha. You said your grandmother's sewer pipe. Fill the pool.
Joel: But the fossil.
God: Um. I really have to take this call. Pat Robert's opened his mouth again. Messy. Messy.
DRRRRIIIIPPP.
Joel finds:
DA DA DA DA "CALSAWAY POOLS". On the internet. :(
Mom: The internet?
Joel: Let me just call them.
Ken (Nice Calsaway pool guy): We can UBER-FILTER your pool. No need to drain it. So clean you could drink it afterwards.
Joel: That's sounds easy. But I don't think you know this pool.
Ken: We are pool guys. We got this.
Joel: Awesome.
Ken: One thing.
Joel: Uh oh.
Ken: The pool needs to be pretty clear.
Joel: How clear?
Joel: Mom . . .
Mom: The internet?
Joel: I just told them to come check it out.
DRRRRIIIIIIPPPP!
Ken: No problem.
Several days and weeks pass.
Ken: Wow.
Several more days and weeks.
Ken: Wow.
Several more days.
Mom: Do these guys have any idea what they are doing?
Joel: I found them on the internet.
Several days.
Ken: I think. . . . Maybe . . . just . . . No? Wow.
Several more days. 1 Week. Drrrrriiiiiiippppppp.
The big day is scheduled. They are going to do this.
Ken (on the big day, calls joel, exhasperated, on the cell phone): Joel?
Joel: Yeah, Ken.
Ken: We have been digging all over. We can't find the stupid sewer drain?
Joel: Huh?
Ken: Sewer drain.
Joel: But?
Ken: Yeah, some of the water does have to be flushed. Like 6000 gallons.
Mom (though she is not present, her voice can be heard): The internet. hmph.
Joel: The stick?
Ken: Yeah, no.
Joel: There was a plummer. With a stick.
Ken: Nope.
Joel: Bummer.
Please note (Joel is on the phone, not present. He is at his job, where he should be working).
Joel: What about where the washing machine empties?
Ken: Great idea, Joel. you're Mom must be so proud of you.
Joel: Yeah, no.
Ken: Let's do it.
Gramma: Let's do it.
Joel: Let's do it.
Ken: Couple things.
Joel: Um.
Ken: Garage door will be propped open slightly. Door to the washroom too.
Joel: My mom . . .
Ken: Be a man.
Joel: Yes sir.
Drrrrriiiiiiippppppp.
Later that night, mom calls.
Mom: They couldn't find the sewer. (internet)
Joel: No.
Mom: There's a stick. (internet)
Joel: I know.
Mom: We should have called a real plummer. I also noticed the hose is running into the washer. Do these guys know what they are doing? (internet)
Joel: Hope so.
Mom: I just went out and looked. There's all these pipes. It makes no sense.
Joel: It's kinda neat.
Mom: I just hope the water doesn't back up and flood the house.
The next day. Ken calls. Too early.
Ken: So. I had this dream.
Joel: Were there fossils?
Ken: Dude? No. I had a nightmare. Woke me up. 3 am. Dreamed your grandmother's house was flooded. FLOODED. Isn't that funny?
Joel: Funny. :|
Ken: You haven't heard anything?
Joel: No.
Ken: Maybe everything is good.
Joel: Maybe.
Joel calls gramma:
Joel: Gram . . .
Gram: Everything is fine.
Joel: You didn't have to swim to the phone?
Gram: I don't like swimming. Your grandfather wanted the damn pool. Everything is fine.
In just a few hours from now, the pool should be all sparkly blue. . .
1 comment:
You know, the funny thing is there are a lot of folks out there that will really believe you had to have made this up.
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