Neither our back yard nor our finances is optimal, really, for putting an in-ground pool on our property.
Several years ago, we adopted a half-joking alternative to that particular American Dream, in the form of a tiny blow-up children’s recreational device that did fit our back yard and our finances, as well as the two of us — and maybe two or three friends, depending on familiarity and alcohol consumption.
It was fun. Tacky as hell, but fun. It was good enough. But it didn’t have drink holders, so when that first vessel died shortly thereafter of deflation or slightly questionable water quality or whatever (the cause of its demise is lost in a haze of summer cocktails), we went down to Big Lots and got one with drink holders. I think the second one lasted somewhat longer than the first, but not by much, and by the time the third Ghetto Pool made its appearance — larger, sturdier and, I believe, octagonal — we had begun a not-so-grand neighborhood tradition.
The following summer, we upgraded to an honest-to-god above-ground number, 10 feet in diameter with its own filtration system. That particular Ghetto Pool played host to after-Pride shenanigans and one hell of a Fourth of July party, as well as countless afternoons and evenings spent just floating serenely.
We pledged to make it a permanent tacky addition to our already less-than-picturesque yard, to take care of it and keep the water sparkling. When our annual Halloween party rolled around, it was still there, its water clean and PH-balanced, but a freak November storm yanked off the cover and defiled our beloved Ghetto Pool beyond restoration. After several weeks of trying to save it, we let it go, and agreed to stop spending money on our disposable expiration-dated back yard aqua-fetish for good.
Until the next summer, last summer, when I found myself once again in the Big Lots aisle labeled “Seasonal,” eyeing the $100 box of metal piping and vinyl and mentally inventorying my bank account.
You know I had that thing assembled and filling like two hours later.
Last year’s above-ground Ghetto Pool didn’t last as long as its predecessor — we were very seriously looking into in-ground options, and weren’t very concerned about preserving it for the long haul — but it did give us another season of tacky bliss (if only because I’d saved a spare filtration system from a friend’s own failed Ghetto Pool experiment). And when first it, and then our attempts at a more permanent oasis, fell through, we agreed once again that it was over.
But our garage is full of skimmers and filters and vacuums. And I can probably come up with a hundred bucks without too much strain to the budget.
And it’s starting to get uncomfortably warm again.
This article appears in May 11-18, 2017.