Last night Bob and I were sipping a cold one at our favorite haunt. "How was your Father's Day?" I asked.

"I thought it was next Sunday."

The commercialization of American holidays has not quite caught up to Father's Day, it seems. Oh sure, we have Hallmark cards. And a few sales (mostly at electronic's and hardware chains). But where's all the hype? I mean, Groundhog Day gets better press. Everybody knows about Puxatawny Phil.

Mother's Day is a big deal. We have flowers. An elaborate meal out at her favorite restaurant. Everyone is dressed to the nines. A gift of jewelry is a must. And if you ever forget Mother's Day....

On the other hand, all you have to look forward to on Father's Day is a tie, if you're lucky. Who cares. I've been wearing the same tie for 20 years. Not that I want flowers and jewelry. But one of those 53" wide-screen projection TVs would be nice. The ancient 19-incher in our rec room blew up a few weeks ago and we have been getting by with a 15-year old Quasar with a rolling picture and scratchy speaker. Doesn't even have a remote. I wouldn't dare tell Bob.

"Well, you didn't miss anything," I said, as we both caught a glimpse of the guy at the next table digging deep into his left nostril for hidden treasure. "All I did was spend the afternoon cutting the grass."

"Really? I pay the kid next door ten bucks to do that."

"I tried that, but the SOB cut our cable. Right in the middle of the Chicago-Utah game."

"Bummer. What did you do to him?"

"Well, nothing really. He didn't charge me though."

"Geeez! I would have neutered him on the spot!"

"Isn't that a little violent?"

"He cut your cable, right?"

"You have a point."