By Debbi Miller Gutierrez
© Brad Arnold
“Mom!” Jose shouted as he ran dripping into the kitchen to find his mother. “Something’s wrong with the pool and
you know my friends are coming over to swim this weekend.”
Sandra looked up from the lunch she was making and frowned. “What’s wrong with the pool?” Her husband Robert
looked over the top of his newspaper at the flustered little boy in his superhero swim trunks.
Jose wrapped his towel around his waist and dripped onto the linoleum some more. “I don’t know,” he grumbled,”
but the pool pump isn’t doing what it usually does. Hardly any water is pumping out and it’s making this horrible
Robert put down his paper and stood up. “I’ll take a look at it. Maybe the skimmer’s clogged or something” he
said, and headed outside. Jose followed him, hopping from one foot to the other impatiently.
Sandra finished assembling the roast beef sandwiches and wiped her hands on her apron. She sure hoped it was
something her husband could fix. Jose would be so disappointed if they had to cancel his pool party.
But when Robert came back in, he was shaking his head. “I tried everything I know how to do. The skimmer is
fine, but when I turned the pool pump off and then on again, it just hummed for a long time. When it finally came
back on, it kept turning itself on and off. I think that pool pump’s a goner.” He looked at Sandra and shrugged. “I
wouldn’t even dare to try fixing it, probably electrocute myself.” Sandra took one look at Jose’s miserable face
and knew she had to do something quickly.
“Who should I call,” Sandra said, tapping on the keyboard on her laptop. “I know there’s that hot tub and pool
equipment company over by Rudy’s house. I think they’re pretty cheap.”
“No way,” Robert said emphatically,” they’re not licensed or insured for electrical work on pools. They worked
on Rudy’s pool and later he found out there were a lot of electrical code violations. Find a company that’s an
IPSSA member to be on the safe side.”
“What’s that?” said Sandra, her fingers flying over the keys. She typed “pool equipment”, “pool electrical”, and
“pool pump repair” into her browser search window.
“IPSSA means Independent Pool and Spa Service Association,” said Robert. “Hey, I remember now that Automated Equipment has all those qualifications.”
“I’m way ahead of you,” said Sandra, picking up the phone and punching in the numbers on the Automated Equipment
The next weekend, Jose and his friends cannonballed into the pool with shrieks of laughter and smacked each
other over the head with swimming noodles. Sandra and Robert sipped their ice tea in the lounge chairs at poolside
and grinned at each other, happy that their son was having such a good time.
“Make sure you put Automated Equipment on our approved list, “Robert told Sandra. “Brad Arnold did a great job
and even saved us money on replacing that pool pump.”
“I’m way ahead of you,” Sandra said. She opened her laptop and keyed in 209-669-6970 to add Automated Equipment’s phone number to her Outstanding Vendors