The Ricker likes his spa.
He takes one nearly every night, and he owned a spa well before they were fashionable. In one form or another, he's owned a hot tub for more than 20 years. The first one was nothing special--cramped and without any premolded seats, so he used old plastic milk crates, which were great on the old back side. The original hot tub didn't have a foam cover, so he only kept it full in the summer, holding out until the world series to drain it (draining it was another process in itself, with him connecting a myriad of hoses together and then standing at the end, sucking with all his might, trying to start a siphon).
His current hot tub is much nicer, but still behind the times. At least this one has a light in the water, although he glued a blue lens over the light to enhance the atmosphere a little. I think this tub is on its last legs, as the jets no longer jet with much force. He'll probably wait until the current models go on sale in 2012 to replace this one, though.
Like I said, the Ricker takes a spa almost every night. He uses the same towel every night, which he hangs outside next to the spa. I'm not sure if it's every been washed. He also only sits on the step on the inside, instead of the seats, so he is really only halfway in. He likes the blue spa light on, but the outside light and the kitchen light must be off, otherwise he bangs on the window and has Mrs. Ricker shut off the lights. The most awkward part about taking a spa with the Ricker is that he enjoys what I call a "European spa," in which bathing suits are discouraged. If it's family in the spa, the Ricker doesn't bother with a suit, or a robe, or any other cover. And now, if the Ricker doesn't bother with a suit, I don't bother with a spa. That suits him, I guess. I think he likes to be alone.
He takes one nearly every night, and he owned a spa well before they were fashionable. In one form or another, he's owned a hot tub for more than 20 years. The first one was nothing special--cramped and without any premolded seats, so he used old plastic milk crates, which were great on the old back side. The original hot tub didn't have a foam cover, so he only kept it full in the summer, holding out until the world series to drain it (draining it was another process in itself, with him connecting a myriad of hoses together and then standing at the end, sucking with all his might, trying to start a siphon).
His current hot tub is much nicer, but still behind the times. At least this one has a light in the water, although he glued a blue lens over the light to enhance the atmosphere a little. I think this tub is on its last legs, as the jets no longer jet with much force. He'll probably wait until the current models go on sale in 2012 to replace this one, though.
Like I said, the Ricker takes a spa almost every night. He uses the same towel every night, which he hangs outside next to the spa. I'm not sure if it's every been washed. He also only sits on the step on the inside, instead of the seats, so he is really only halfway in. He likes the blue spa light on, but the outside light and the kitchen light must be off, otherwise he bangs on the window and has Mrs. Ricker shut off the lights. The most awkward part about taking a spa with the Ricker is that he enjoys what I call a "European spa," in which bathing suits are discouraged. If it's family in the spa, the Ricker doesn't bother with a suit, or a robe, or any other cover. And now, if the Ricker doesn't bother with a suit, I don't bother with a spa. That suits him, I guess. I think he likes to be alone.
posted at 12:35 PM
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