I get grief in Australia because I’m from New Jersey.  And America. 

It’s not bad enough that Australians feel comfortable “giving heaps” to Americans (aka Septics - precedes Tanks which rhymes with Yanks. Ah, the subtleties of Cockney!).  But mention you’re from New Jersey and folks feel inclined to pitch in a bit more.

Must be all that Joe Pesci did in “My Cousin Vinnie.” Or Tony Soprano in “The Sopranos.” But New jersey is synonymous for “tough under dog” and “brash but no class” around the world.  I think of Joan Cusack in “Working Girl” (even if she was from Richmond [aka Staten Island]). 

So I left New Jersey - a long, long time ago.  But they do say “You can take the boy out of New Jersey, but you can’t take the New Jersey out of the boy.” I am a little loud.  Down here that’s called being OTT (Over The Top).  I like loud cars. Sunshine and sand aren’t enough unless you add Banana Boat Coconut Oil.  Classy, no?

And then today all my battery hens come home to roost.  I find I’ve been hot-linked by “The Newark Star Ledger” and their blog site.  Is this infamy? Or final recognition from my home state - come back to the five and dime!

It’s too much to ponder.  Besides, I got me a Corvette to polish - I’m outta here!