The Green Lagoon, Part 4 of 4

The Green Lagoon, Part 4 of 4

Quentin Smeltzer, SmeltzerNation 7/22/10

A few more weeks passed and Mike, the pool man, stopped coming around.   The last time I saw him was the afternoon he suddenly appeared in our secluded backyard at the very same moment I chose to go sunbathing au naturel.  I’m not sure which horrified him more: the uncontrollable green sludge in the pool or the sight of my white posterior on the chaise lounge.  Either way: the horror, the horror!

The really scary thing is, it could have been worse… 

Fortunately, Mike was alone this time, but the damage was done.  Let this be a lesson to all of you, especially those in the company of women and small children.  We love to see you, but do us all a favor:  call ahead. 

By my reckoning it was now day sixty two of the disaster with still no solution in sight.  On top of that it was unclear who was in charge.  Was it me, Mike, Admiral Thad Allen, Sean Hannity?  And the frustrating thing was, we still had not stopped the growth of the green algae.  An angry family demanded to know when the pool would be cleaned, but stopping the algae was clearly job one.  We had to staunch the growth before we could even consider steps to clean it up. 

Friends continued to chime in with suggestions:  drain and refill the pool.  Too costly.  Shock the crap out of it.  Uh, tried that (see Part 2).  One expert warned that mixing different types of chlorine could form an explosive brew, rendering the entire pool unstable!

Others suggested that the Obama Administration was behind the green sludge.  The reasoning was simple: force us to use our air conditioners, taxing the electrical grid to failure and thus calling into need new energy legislation… or something like that.  It was the kind of logic only a political genius could follow: someone like Glenn Beck. 

Finally, at day eighty eight there was a breakthrough!  A friend of my wife suggested a new “Top Kill” method:  two gallons of Diamond Clear Mega Shock, twelve point five percent sodium hypochlorite. 

The procedure began in the middle of the night and an anxious family awaited the results with bated breath.  In the morning I led a team of experts to the site, comprised of myself, my son, and our dog, whom I do not particularly care for (see Dog). 

The cautious news rang out: the pool was blue!  Cloudy, but blue!  The spread of the evil, green contamination appeared to be stopped!  The cleanup could commence!

But the cleanup soon revealed itself to be as daunting as stopping the algae spread.  The pool filter constantly clogged with green mucous.  When we ventured into the pool, the bottom was slimy and we kicked up great, green plumes as we walked.  It all appeared hopeless once again. 

Worried about neighborhood opinion, I bought advertising in the local paper pledging we would “do what it takes to make this right.”  But I was roundly criticized for using my time and resources in this manner.

 Desperate times call for desperate measures and so a new plan was devised.  The new method, labeled the “Bottom Suck,” would be to vacuum the bottom inch of sludge, not through the filter, but out of the pool entirely.  Recent rains had lifted the water level high enough that the experts (me) concluded that the audacious new attempt might succeed. 

Other experts (my wife) objected that the super-chlorinated water might “kill the lawn.”  This delayed the plan as feverish negotiations and recalculations took place. 

Finally the new plan was approved, but with modifications mandated by the authorities (my wife, again).  The following day my son manned the pump switch and the expulsion hose which would dump hundreds of gallons of contaminated water into a hastily improvised containment unit: our wheel barrow. 

Execution of the plan was loud and messy but gallons of green water began surging into the containment unit.  Each time it filled the procedure had to be stopped as I wheeled the green water to a “safe location,” whose precise whereabouts are known only by myself and certain high-ranking officials of the British Petroleum company. 

As of this writing the pool remains blue but somewhat cloudy.  The bottom is without sludge.  The cleanup effort goes on.  The impact may be felt for years, even decades to come.  No one knows for sure what the full cost may be.  What we do know is that expensive new rules and regulations will have to be put in place: This year, instead of closing the pool myself, I’ll have to pay a professional to do it. 

Maybe I can get Mike to come back?

The End