Kevin Riordan: Say, who is that lady waving?

Tax waving done right requires "energy, personality, and a positive attitude," Jonathan Adels says.

A thick skin likewise comes in handy for the job of wearing a Statue of Liberty costume in all sorts of winter weather and, worse, having to smile and wave at us South Jersey drivers.

That's how Adels - until recently an unemployed lightning-rod installer - earns a living from 9 to 5 Monday through Friday outside the Liberty Tax Service store on South Lenola Road in Maple Shade.

"Good days are when I don't get flipped off," says the 32-year-old father of two, who lives in Westville. "Fortunately, nobody's thrown anything at me yet."

Others among the Liberty chain's 5,000 wavers may not be so lucky. But all are part of the "aggressive guerrilla marketing tactics [that] have helped build the Liberty Tax brand to national prominence," company spokeswoman Nina Cunningham said in an e-mail from headquarters in Virginia.

A good waver like Adels draws customers, says Nancy DeCicco, president of the Maple Shade store and five others in South Jersey.

"It's an extremely efficient way of getting people's attention," she says. "It's definitely a great marketing tool."

Like all Liberty franchise owners, occasionally DeCicco has to do the wave herself. So she knows what she's talking about: Wavers can't just stand there doing a Queen Elizabeth.

"You have to make eye contact with the people in the cars," she says. "You're not waving to cars. You're waving to people."

Wavers tend to be male and younger than 40. They earn between $7.50 and $10 an hour and get free hand warmers and plenty of breaks.

"I treat them like royalty," says Lee Shattuck, owner of the Westville franchise. "I bought an iPod Shuffle for my waver, and I said, 'Give me a list of the songs you want me to put on it.' "

A playlist of the greatest Patti Smith live shows of all time wouldn't be enough to persuade a certain columnist to don the crown, gown, and sash. On the same day the ridiculous rodent emerged from wherever it supposedly lurks beneath Punxsutawney, Pa., I emerge from the cocoon of my car to join waver Patrick English on Blackwood-Clementon Road in Blackwood.

I shiver; he doesn't. This guy's a pro.

Waving "puts a little pep in my step," says English, 25, of Blackwood. Like Adels, he's got personality to burn.

"It's fun," he shouts as a passing jet-black semi blasts a foghorn-like greeting. "You get to see everybody walking or driving by, and if they've got a frown on, by the time they go past, they turn it upside down."

Not everyone, of course. "Some people might yell one or two things," adds English, who started waving a couple of weeks ago. "I do masonry," he explains. "With the recession, work's been a little slow."

Wavers were hard to find and harder to retain when DeCicco opened her first Liberty store seven years ago. "They used to quit every two weeks, so we always had to have people in reserve," she says. "But we have no trouble getting people this year because of the economy."

Adels had been living off savings for a year. "I put out thousands of applications, and Nancy got back to me," he says.

He really likes the work, despite the costume. No one will mistake him for a star of RuPaul's Drag Race, but let's face it: He's dressed like the Statue of Liberty, and the statue is a lady.

"It don't bother me," Adels says. "I'm confident about who I am. People wave at me, and I wave back. People stop to ask for directions here and there, and I help them out. It's pretty much about being nice to people."

Although his 6-year-old son has yet to see his dad at work, "I think he'd be proud of me," Adels says. "Like I always tell him, you just do the best you can. You do what you can to support your family."

Mr. Liberty, I salute you.