Ah, the heat's on, you know.

SUMMERTIME

Traditionally when many New Jersey families would pack the kids up for a week - two if they were lucky - and head down to 'The Shore' to enjoy scalding little feet off across broad, sandy beach before hitting the bathtub warm, sometimes brown water churning and washing up. It was still exotic fun to inlanders and cool enough to be refreshing. 

You could hear the sizzle of bodies as shoulders deepened to crimson and little backs got burnt digging to China at the waterline.

Later, a dash into an air-conditioned rental cottage or motel room to be first to claim the bathroom out of the sticky, smelly scrum. There, you would scrape off remnants of sand glued to thick layers of either tanning lotion or sunblock, followed by a good post-shower spray of aloe vera to kill the pain, and stand in front of the A/C to finish drying off, cooling down as you let the chilled air rustle by you. 

If there were a kitchenette, then an easy family meal might follow. More likely you'd be headed to a dockside 'seafood' restaurant - fried everything for the kiddos - a local, revered institution of renown and dive joint charm. Then off to the delights of whatever shabby boardwalk graced your seaside town.

Back to air-conditioned bliss hours later, sweaty, happy, and stuffed.

When you got home from your vacation, in the sticky, icky NJ summers, you almost always had a cooler house to come into, even when maybe it was only one or two window units working full blast to make it bearable.

My Daddy basically believed icicles should be dripping from the ceiling, both in his cockpit when he was flying his 1011 and when he was home.

In the New Jersey of my youth, it was only a question of how much abuse your system and body could take, never a question of whether there was enough power to have it turned on to begin with.

When one now sees yellowed, rat-like incisors flash in a rictus grin, it's a warning on the face of verminous NJ governor Phil Murphy - not shared summertime contentment.

The rodential chief executive was proud to announce to state residents that he had successfully turned their once power-bountiful Garden State into a KOA primitive campground for their living pleasure. The downside of his plan being the state only has one allotted powerline from the pole by the road, but has booked too many 30-foot Winnebagos.

UNPLUG EVERYTHING, CLOSE THE BLINDS, STAY COOL!

As high temperatures continue across the state, we urge you to conserve energy where possible and stay cool: