Pros: works like a dog 12 hours a day in summer and six in winter
Cons: planned obsolescence and very expensive replacement parts
The Bottom Line: Forget a better mousetrap -- If you could build a pool cleaner that didn't break down, the swimming world would beat a path to your door!
(With profound apologies to the estate of Edgar Allan Poe)
Once upon a weekend sunny, while I labored, with sweat runny,
In the back yard, as my Honey sat upon her riding mower.
Suddenly there came a bubbling I just knew would be quite troubling.
From the swimming pool a glubbling signifying woe galore.
"No, not again!" I just muttered standing on the concrete shore,
Not another journey to the store!
Ahhh, quite distinctly I recall a dawning presence that first Fall,
When I sensed the siren call wafting from the pool bug store.
"Come inside," it seemed to tell me, "come inhale our chlorine smell! We
Have Polaris parts to sell! See, they're right inside the door.
We stand ready to become your own Polaris store..."
Quoth the pool bug, "To the store!"
So I crossed their entrance striping on a quest for special piping,
That apparently was fashioned on some expensive foreign shore.
Almost fainting, such reaction to the massive profit fraction,
And the weird Polaris faction that I nearly hit the floor.
"To the hardware shoppe!" I murmured, heading back out through their door.
Sneered the pool bug, "Just this store!"
"Hey!" your correspondent hollers, "A piece of tubing with some collars,
Wouldn't cost me twenty dollars in another kind of store!"
Polaris salesclerks all a-giggling, so much so that one starts wiggling,
And the boss is down there wriggling like a puppy on the floor.
"Other brands are just as pricey," someone shouts above the roar.
Howled the pool bug, "Spend some more!"
Tiny belts that looked like rubber cost as though they're made of Flubber,
That some greedy money-grubber has had Fed-Exed from Lahore.
And meshy netting I just guessed John-Paul the Second must have blessed,
That I bought at bug's behest whene'er its bag showed signs of war.
Seemed like every other weekend I was forced to mortgage something more.
Echoed pool bug, "Something more!"
Then there came a monumental dump on the day its cursed pump
Ceased to function in its sump and then would circulate no more.
Sand and leaves so quickly littered in my bathing pool embittered,
And Polaris salesmen tittered as your correspondent swore.
A new unit ought to run you arms, a leg, and more!
Laughed the pool bug, "Maybe more!"
Well, the marriage hit the skids when we were forced to sell the kids
And I got busted selling lids out behind the candy store.
Sure, the Mrs. came and bailed me (but not before Polaris nailed me),
And my own attorney failed me with his writ of habeas cor-
pus; 'twas filed too late to head off a Polaris score.
Growled the pool bug, "Give him what for!"
So now I've planned myself an answer for that two-tone water dancer,
I don't need a necromancer to chase Polaris from my door.
Gonna rent a giant shovel, fill the swimming pool with rubble;
And leave just one tiny bubble at the bottom on the floor.
Where the pool bug gets compressed until there's not one darn speck more;
Quoth the owner, "Nevermore!"
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