
This is what the pool looked like yesterday morning.
The city still thinks the pool needs to go. They don’t trust my do-it-yourself pool repair to hold water. But I have a lot of practice over the years drilling out, filling in, and repairing cracks. This was supposed to be the second time I brought the pool back to life with my own two hands and loads of internet instructional videos via YouTube. My work is not pretty. I didn’t have time to paint the pool before inspection. My lines of repair material are crooked and uneven, but to be fair, that’s because the cracks were also crooked and uneven. The true measure is whether or not my work holds water.

Here is the pool this morning, virtually the same water level, minus a bit of hot-day evaporation, as yesterday.
It looks like I fixed it, right? The city even grudgingly acknowledged that if I got the pump running quickly and replaced the underground pipes that were cracked, then I had the problem solved. But therein lies the rub, Rube. In order to install a new pump which was well within my budget and get the plumbing fixed, I had to have electricity to the pump circuits. The pool guy recommended calling an electrician. Which I did. Oh, man, what a bloodbath of expenses that was! $500 worth of exploring the attic and checking the lines in the house determined that not only did the electrician who installed the pool cheat and not install the electrical lines up to code, but the entire house, when it was built the 60’s or 70’s was wired improperly and has no main cut-off switch. To repair the electricity would cost around a thousand dollars more than having the pool removed, which I already cannot afford.

This is the pool looking as good as it is ever going to look again.
So, in spite of working like an enraged bull in the bull ring, goaded on by the matador who is the city inspector, for an entire week in July heat and unpredictable rain storms, and getting my part of the work done successfully, I am defeated.
My wife, the reigning Queen of Stubborn in our household, hasn’t given up yet. She has cousins in San Antonio who do electrical work. And she is determined to carry on with saving the pool. But I am defeated myself. It is time for a bit of depression again and more reliance on humor to get me through the dark nights ahead. (Notice, I said dark nights, not dark knights. I don’t have to fight Batman about this.)


























Battling Pirates and Losing
I have been boarded and scuttled by the pirates of Banko Merricka. Yes the blood-thirsty buccaneers have won their lawsuit against me and forced me into a Chapter 13 bankruptcy. You see, they ambushed me. When I was undergoing a debt reduction plan, the evil banker buccaneers of Banko Merricka not only refused to answer all calls from my lawyer, they quietly sold my debt to their ruthless debt collecting assassins, who waited until I had paid off all my other creditors, and then launched a lawsuit against me. They normally get away with this kind of ambush because people in general don’t know how to respond. I hired a lawyer and fought back. I would’ve been able to pay a settlement if it had occurred when I wasn’t dealing with a big financial hit from the city over the derelict swimming pool.
My Banko Merricka debt was boosted by a couple thousand dollars due to their court fees which I must also pay. It is a very expensive process for the average American to become bankrupt and poor. The kind of bankruptcy I will undergo bundles all my unpaid unsecured credit card debt into one huge pile and then, supervised by an account manager, I will pay it off in manageable chunks for the next five years. It wipes out all my credit accounts except car payments and reduces my ability to secure loans to zero. The pirates have won.
But I am not despairing. I haven’t been able to afford medicine and going to the doctor since I retired, so I will probably not live to pay it all off anyway. And money is not the focus of my life. The people who care about money more than life itself do not lead happier lives than I do. If we lose our house and have to move to an apartment, we can do that. If I have to get by on less each month, well, I’ve done that before. Money worries will not be the cause of my heart attack or stroke. And who knows, if I eat enough spinach, maybe there is super-power to fight back with in my future. Pirates don’t win every battle.
Leave a comment
Filed under angry rant, battling depression, commentary, feeling sorry for myself, humor, monsters, Paffooney, Pirates, satire, self pity