"Men, stop working. There must have been a mix-up in our
office, Mr. Hogmouth. We stopped here because your pool
was so obviously in need of service that we were sure you
had been contacted... But if the appropriate paperwork has
not been completed, I'm afraid you're not eligible. This is
most unfortunate! With the deadline for full compliance so
close at hand, you may not be able to contract work
through a private firm in time to avoid a citation..." I
"CITATION? Eligible? Paperwork? Deadline for compliance
with what?" "Mosquito control, Mr. Hogmouth! This is a
very serious problem around here, as I'm sure you know. It
has become such a serious problem locally that the Health
Department has been mandated by the Federal Office of
Emergency Management to take action immediately. We
take our work very seriously, Barney. We'd hate to leave a
priority item such as a pool like yours unattended. Now,
about the program: As you know, mosquitoes are a major
spreader of disease among both humans and cattle."
"Cattle?" he blurted. "I have 1500 head on the range here!"
"Yes, which makes the situation all the more critical,
Barney. You see, mosquitoes breed in stagnant water, such
as this pool. They mate and lay their eggs in festering
puddles like these, where tiny micro-organisms, bacteria
and algae provide food for the larvae, which float just below
the surface of the water." "I see." 1 "By eliminating the
breeding habitat for these filthy harbingers of death, we
hope to completely eliminate the mosquito problem here-or
at least get it under some sort of control." I "So you're here
just to drain the pool for me," he said, as understanding
began to dawn. "Yes, but that's not all. Mosquito eggs are
capable of lying dormant for long periods of time. It's not
enough to simply drain the water. A single rainstorm can
reactivate the reproductive cycle. We've found that the only
effective means of preventing the gestation of mosquito eggs
(barring the use of extremely hazardous pesticides) is to
physically crush them where they lie, which is generally on
the walls and bottom of the pool after it has been properly
drained." "Is that so?" "Yes. So the final step of the
procedure is to physically crush the tiny mosquito eggs with
special urethane rollers mounted on a high-speed seven-ply
insect control device." I gestured to Chris's plank, leaning
against the shallow end. I "Kinda looks like one of them
skateboards!" "You're right, it does. But don't let the
similarity of appearance fool you! This is a highly-refined
piece of technical equipment, developed by some of the
world's finest engineers specifically for mosquito control in
critical situations like yours." "So after you drain the
pool, you roll one of these around in it?" "Yes. Several of
them at once, actually. It's more efficient. The procedure is
called 'snaking. Each of the technicians has to personally
guide the roller device across the walls and bottom of the
pool. The technician's weight also helps to crush the eggs, of
course." "I see." "And even so, one treatment is usually
not enough. We'll put you on a regular maintenance
program of egg-suppression-say, once every week or so for
about a six-hour session." He was fascinated now. "This
is really very involved, isn't it?" "Well, yes, but it is
necessary. You wouldn't want mosquitoes to breed
uncontrolled here, would you?" "No! Of course not!"
"That's great. You know, if you'd be willing to keep the
pool bailed out for us, it would save us a lot of valuable
time, and we could waive your monthly program
maintenance fee." "Really? Well that's very reasonable!
I'd be glad to do that much." "You should be proud of
yourself, Barney, you're a great American." "We all have
to do our part." "Speaking of which, I had better do my
part and get busy here." I grabbed another bucket and
jumped back into the pool, happy as a maggot in slime. I
Barney, feeling like a wiser man, walked back toward his
truck whistling the Star Spangled Banner. Then suddenly,
he stopped in his tracks and turned around. I gulped,
wondering if we were going to get that dose of salt in our
butts anyhow. He had a funny look in his eyes, he took a
couple of steps toward us. Then he spoke. "Say, my
wife just made a big batch of chocolate chip cookies.
Would you boys care for some?" "Gosh, Barney, that
would be great." I replied, concealing my relief like a
professional, which in fact I was. "We love chocolate
chip cookies, don't we, guys?"
THE LAST POOL
DON REDONDO
It all started the day she walked, no make that strutted,
into my office. Although she seemed to make an attempt to
close the door softly, the opaque glass that read "Don
Redondo-Private Detective" still rattled loudly. Me,
catching this through the corner of one eye as I read the
latest Surfer Magazine, and her, sliding into one of my
chairs, eyes cast downward. I took my feet off the
windowsill, laid the magazine on my lap and swiveled my
chair around to face her. Jeez, the corner of one eye didn't
do her justice. What a broad! Such a face, long legs, perfect
figure, nice hair and a healthy rack to boot. "You have to
find him!" she blurted out, almost bursting into tears as if
on cue. "Find who?" I asked. I thought about being more
sympathetic, but my senses told me something wasn't on
the up and up. She had an air of being kept and came off as
kind of phony. "It's my boyfriend-Justin Sean Kelly
McSqueeb-he's disappeared!" I almost mumbled "Good
riddance." I knew the guy. Well, I knew of him. He was
literally raised to be the best skateboarder in the world, and
most people did consider him the best. He ripped at any
kind of contest-street (at least the contest version), ramp
and even freestyle. He was the first guy to do a Mc Twist on
flatland! His dad, a honcho in skateboarding's only
governing body (since the power struggles of the early 90s)
had the nose wheelie outlawed in contests and style
discounted from judging altogether. That's why I didn't
like the kid. Not for the nose wheelie thing, but just for
everything he stood for. Now that there was only one
"association" of skaters, a lot of traditions were stepped on.
No downhill, no slalom, no real street terrain-just props!
Pool contests were also forbidden. Now don't get me
wrong-I'm not a big fan of contests. I personally don't think
they prove a lot in surfing or in skating. You can win the
world title in surfing without paddling out into the life or
death battles in Hawaii and you can win all the skate
contests you want and not rip a huge cement pipe or a
really scary pool. And even if you do rip a spot, it's not
proving some local kid won't show up the next day and
completely shut you down. So remember that at your
awards banquet-the best skater in the world is out ripping
while you're stuffing your face. So, contests aside, the
governing body of skateboarding decided that illegal pool
riding, ditch shredding and impromptu street sessions were
hurting the image of the sport. They waved respectability