Oh fathers, where art thou?

Father’s Day is upon us. Wowee. Has all the excitement of mayonnaise on a hot dog. The special day began in 1910.

The origin of this tradition dates back to the period following the Civil War. It may have started with the need to dispose of excess clothing, like a leftover sweater. A certain activist named Ann Reeves Jarvis had the idea that mothers of both Confederate and Union soldiers should unite, which eventually led to the involvement of fathers. Over time, the significance of this tradition has evolved into the exchange of inexpensive cologne and poor-quality silk ties, often accompanied by a desire for the children to finish their bathroom break so the father can use the facilities.

I never knew my father. I never actually saw, touched or smelled him until I was about 14.

He was a dentist. When I was 2, my mother decided she didn’t like anything about him — including his teeth — and divorced him. He and I never met again — ever — until I was about 14. She forcibly arranged it. But he never gave mom one cent. And not again — not once — did he try to see me. It was my mom and grandmother who saved and scraped to feed me.

I was nothing. I looked like nothing. Not pretty. Chubby. No commanding need to like me. Nothing to fawn over or even try to stay close. And he didn’t. Never again did I see him or hear from him. Not even a card — ever — ever — from a single member of his birth family.

Day of the dad

I know Sunday is Father’s Day. Mazel tov. If you’re going mad for dad, question is, what to get him?

Maybe:

Bathroom lessons so he’s neater in the john than your dog.

Rules so that when you let him OUT!, it doesn’t mean with who!

In Hollywood, an introduction to whomever his own father could’ve been.

In DC, a photo of George Washington, father of our country.

In NYC, a meeting with Elon Musk, father of half our country.

For Biden a 9×12 enlargement of Hunter at the ATM.

For Kamala. Oy, please. Forget any parent. This is just for her: an appointment with a dressmaker. A career. ANYTHING!

Pete Davidson. No reason. Just because.

Tom Cruise. Also no reason. It’s just enough already.

Bernie Sanders. Forget any parent. Let’s just personally give him Kleenex so he doesn’t keep spitting on us.

No Nix-ing papa’s gifting

After the First World War activist Anna Jarvis — whose main activity was pushing this toward an official Father’s Day — institutionalized it as a holiday. Great idea — especially since it’s the actual fathers themselves who give their kids enough money to buy these watered-down fragrances and unsold ties. Then — pay attention — it was Nixon, like we haven’t enough reason to be cranky with him, who established it as a federal holiday.

Of course things are different in showbiz. One actress who’s never had an Oscar, a Tony or an Emmy — but has had every Tom, Dick and Harry — loves Father’s Day. She says female movie stars must have at least one Tom, Dick and Harry PLUS a Japanese gardener, a Filipino houseboy, a French maid and a Mexican divorce.

Be it known Father’s Day and Mother’s Day are alike. The latest Father’s Day gift coming to showpeople is called Bowling for Alimony. It’s just that on Father’s Day the gift is cheaper. And paid for on his credit card.

And this is NOT only in New York, kids, only in New York.