Summertime and the livin' is easy ... provided you have central air (and the money to pay the electric company).

Yet for a hot-headed Italian like me, sometimes even A/C doesn't quite cool my jets. That's when I find myself exploring my arctic options. Antarctica? Too expensive. The ice cream department at Shop 'n Save? Too fattening. A visit to Sandcastle? Too far ... although a visit to its Web site provides the sound of waves crashing against the shore, tasty and temperate, if temporary, relief.

Thanks to a loyal reader who took the plunge and contacted me, I found the answer: Dormont Pool, where being hot just doesn't get any cooler.

I know there are other municipal pools in Allegheny County, but are there any with a more fervent fan base? Weeks before my first visit, I am blasted with enough e-mails to fill three, perhaps four, "save" files. They come from John Maggio -- he may earn his living as a mortgage broker, but he has (if he so chooses) a great future in public relations and/or on Capitol Hill.

Maggio was one of the brains behind the plan to save the pool when the town was ready to drain the historic landmark that was draining its budget. In 2006, he and his 13-year-old daughter, Gina, made a splash by (literally) going door-to-door, collecting money and rallying residents to save one of their own. Committees were formed, monies were raised, grants were received. With Save Dormont Pool and Friends of Dormont Pool in fighting form, no one is going to take a destructive dip, not even the developer who, as recent as last April, offered the town $1 million to buy the pool and surrounding land to build a strip mall and was stripped of his dreams.

On my first visit, it becomes clear that Dormont denizens weren't raising money to save just any pool. This 160-foot by 420-foot gem -- slightly smaller than the state of Delaware, it's the largest public pool in Pennsylvania and the only one designated a landmark -- is the core of the town, a place where mothers and fathers and grandparents congregate to chat, catch-up, compare tans, socialize and, of course, swim. It's just a bit after noon, the pool has just opened, and the towels and chairs are already being placed on the concrete "beach."

Amy Torcaso, the pool's manager for the past 23 years, tells me that on a really good (read: hot) day, about 1,500 people visit the pool; that number hit 2,500 one July 4 weekend in early 2000.

Yes, the pool needs work. The body of the grand 88-year-old old lady is still there; her muddy bottom was replaced in 1929 with a solid bottom and she's still able to perform, still able to hold 1.5 million gallons of water with nary a leak. She gets an annual face-lift: It takes 156 gallons of paint (150 blue, 5 red, 1 white) to pull her together for her Memorial Day Weekend comeback. Still, she is in dire need of a sand-blasting and some minor and major nips and tucks.

Those will come Maggio promises; a long-term plan for permanent repairs of the pool and bath house are in place, he says, stressing that as a result of "everybody working so hard," there are grants supporting the continuing operation, maintenance and rehab of the pool totaling close to $650,000. It's not enough, but it's a great beginning.

The Borough of Dormont, which neglected the pool all these many years, is Maggio adds, making up for its past actions "in spades."

But Maggio wants more. He sees tube slides and diving boards and chairs and a concession stand; as he rambles on, I eyeball a mother and child soaking in the shallow end. I spot an elderly woman doing laps. I smile as a wee one enjoys the spray from the splashing mushroom. I listen, I nod, I take notes. But a more important issue keeps swimming through my mind and out onto my sweaty brow.

Once I jump in, should I practice my Esther Williams or my Joe Gillis moves?