Remember when Christie Todd Whitman was governor of New Jersey? Back when Bill Clinton was president, gas was $1.35 a gallon, and America was having its heart broken by a little lady called Internet stocks.

With what was probably her final State of the State address, Whitman began her exit from the New Jersey stage last Tuesday, taking with her a commitment to open space and preparing to work with a likely secretary of Interior who used to lobby for a lead paint manufacturer. How lovely it always has been for nature lovers to watch Whitman bend with the wind.

The following is Whitman's address from Tuesday. It is not an exact transcription; the content and most of the ideas have been changed. But since she's about to work for the Bush administration, she might as well get used to that:

Mr. President, Mr. Speaker, members of the legislature, all the usual out-of-state lobbyists and some guy dressed like a giant dog carrying a newspaper.

As you know, this may be the last time I report to you on the state of the state. Soon I will go before the Senate, and after that I will either manage the Environmental Protection Agency, or I will hide in my room and write depressing songs about my cat. Either way, what a privilege it has been to serve as your governor.

New Jersey has 8.4 million people, with the 16th largest economy in the world, the second highest per capita income in the United States and, at any given time, approximately 2.6 million acres of land that smell like a gym.

You know, if all politics is local, then all policy is personal. And if all policy is personal, then all fruit is delicious. Therefore, all politics is delicious. I guess what I mean is that I have touched many individuals – though not physically, of course; if I did that, I would have to scrub until my skin burned because, as governor, I can never get clean.

So let me just start at the beginning. When I first came to Trenton in 1994, New Jersey still was raw, unsettled country. Many of the trappers and scouts along Interstate 295 had never seen a woman before, and the Delaware Indians were camped along the Hudson, hunting fish with a spear, wearing beaver skins and occasionally walking to the Vince Lombardi Service Area for chocolate chip muffins.

But I gained their respect by passing a slew of tax cuts. The trappers could keep more of their pelts. The Delawares paid less for chocolate chip muffins. And Lockheed executives could buy more platinum blades for their helicopters. All were pleased with their new white chief.

And how are things now after seven years under my administration? Well, look around. There are no more diseases. We all live in rocket ships. Employment is up, the economy is strong, and did I mention the smell?

And I say again, all this is personal. The critics and pundits can say what they like, but the best part about this job is helping people. I think for example, of Bob Spodina. Six years ago, he was living on welfare, shooting up baby aspirin and kidnapping dogs. But we put him in our Work First New Jersey program, and now, that man is my husband. Stand up, Bob. Let everybody see you.

People come to me constantly now just to says thanks. One woman wrote, “With your help, I'm off welfare.” Another said, “With your aid and guidance, I am now no longer able to feed my baby.” Still others say, “Thanks to you, Gov. Whitman, I saved $12 on a refrigerator.”

Members of the legislature, we have come a long way together. I think back on many moments: Our work on tax cuts. Our struggles over auto insurance. The time we discovered that little cafe together. And of course, the day we made snow angels. We were in love for awhile, weren't we?

But I'm still not sure what to say when friends ask how I would like to have my tenure as governor remembered. I sure don't want it to be for racial profiling, doubling the state's debt or my vague but disturbing resemblance to David Spade. I think I would like to remembered as the governor who ended her final state speech by putting three cue balls in her mouth at once.

So thank you, God bless, drive safely and tip your waitress.

MMmmmphltt.