Well, the seller came back with the disclosure that there was no guarantee that the steam shower or hot tub actually worked.  Hmm.  Okay well we don’t really need a steam shower after all – after all, what do you do, just stand in the shower steaming?  Maybe we can just fix the Jacuzzi!!!  So enthusiasm unabated, we pressed for the house and closed a smooth escrow a few weeks later.

Move in time.  Yikes!  My wife has a plant fetish, and I am telling you the agony of moving plants is excruciating (even though she did it all, believe me, it was excruciating to watch and listen to her complain). 

We were not surprised, based on the disclosure, that the hot tub was not functional.  In fact, it had some kind of strange web-like algae creature growing in brown tepid water that looked like had not been drained in years.  Funny how when we were looking at the property we didn’t bother to pull up the hot tub cover!  Fortunately we did not see any aggressive creatures lurking in the depths (apparently they were all in the nearby koi pond, which we can discuss later).  So upon inspection it was decided that the hot tub was too old and in disrepair to rehabilitate. 

Time to go whirlpool shopping!  Exciting!  Daunting!  $15,000 for one with a television and surround sound!  Ipod docks and choice of wood or laminate finish.  Hot tubs where you can exercise to a current!    All the choices and I found myself attracted to one that has nothing to do with my place of birth of course, called “The Quebec.”  Visions of people wearing tuques (ski-caps with a ball on the top) in a 56-jet Cadillac of a hot tub in the dead of winter in Canada came to my mind.  Jets oriented for the back of every major muscle (is the bottom of the foot a muscle?)

It was official – I was in love with The Quebec. 

So we chose a black marble color for the tub that would make us feel like we were blasting off in a spaceship when the jets came on.  Now the logistical issues.  How to get the old hot tub of a measly 5 jets out??  Considering the small problem that the space it was in was not big enough for The Almighty Quebec.  The hot tub shop offered to bring in the new hot tub after taking out the old, but it had to be done at the same time.  Our friendly neighborhood handy man (we’ll call him “Chuck”) suggested that we do the following: cut the old hot tub with a circular saw, and over the course of several weeks, throw the pieces in the garbage and recycle bins.

So now imagine piles of pieces of fiberglass and wood for weeks sitting around in our back yard and garage.  It was a beautiful inspiring sight.  Meanwhile, Chuck went through the work of cutting the deck to a wider space and laying down a larger concrete slab upon which to rest The Quebec for which we eagerly awaited.

We ordered the Quebec for delivery after putting down our deposit.  Several weeks later we were told that the black spaceship color was no longer available.  My wife went ballistic (or was it photon torpedo?) and harangued the seller about customer service, etc. until she settled for a less exciting color and managed to get “mist” for cost.  Now if you have never tried mist, this is when the hot tub can spray up cold water at the touch of a button if you become too hot.  I poo-pooed the idea and said it was unnecessary (guess who uses it the most these days).

The sellers came out to inspect the placement site for the hot tub to make sure it would fit.  And it’s a good thing they did, because not only was the deck odd-shaped and the concrete slab off-kilter, but also the arbor pillars above the hot tub holding an out-of-control wisteria vine were too close together for the tub to fit through.  We measured and re-measured and had to concede that this was true.  Argh!!!  So back comes Chuck the trusty handy man to redo the whole thing, complete with a support beam for the arbor so the vine would not come crashing down.

The day of delivery arrived! Because the gate to our backyard was too narrow, a crane had to be used to lift the tub over the house.  This is quite a sight, let me tell you, and the neighbors all gathered round to watch the ridiculousness of it.   But it went so smoothly, it was amazing – hot tub in place within 20 minutes of male grunting and shoving. 

Ok – ready to fill it up and rev up the hyperdrive!!!  Ummm… what?  The electrical panel is not powerful enough?  We need a new $3500 upgraded panel or everything in the house will short circuit???  Argh!!!  Apparently 56 jets and two motors require a fair amount of power (who woulda thunk?).  I imagine the sound of the Millennium Quebec Falcon powering down like a battered lawn mower.  Two weeks later Spaceship Quebec is still grounded, no water in it, while the electrician gets the new panel permit and installs the goods.  Ironically the new panel also blows out a couple of our household power surge protectors.

Why did we get this dag-nabbed glorified bubble-maker? 

Sigh – for the vision of lovely evenings relaxing with a glass of wine (I am, after all, a hedonist by nature)…. And also just for the status points with my French-speaking friends of having a hot tub named “The Quebec.” 

O.K. – the light is at the end of the tunnel!  Fill up the water and heat up!  Pour in the 50 weird chemicals!  Decipher the litmus paper for testing the water!  Let’s rev it up!  Umm – there are 20 buttons here. Which one does what?  How do the jets open?

Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle and finally, Calling Houston, We have lift off! 

And true to my nature, I have been living in that thing ever since.