A Father’s Day Note to the President: Mind Your Own Business

I’m far from a perfect father. For example, just the other day, on my watch, my one-year old, Ben, who is now rumblin’, bumblin’ and stumblin’ all over the house, took a dive on the corner of our entertainment center and gave himself a nice shiner.  Within a few minutes, he’d forgotten about it and was wobbling around on two legs again, proud of his newly acquired mobility.  But I felt bad for not catching him. I suppose the President, who made it a point on Saturday to pontificate to us dads about what kind of fathers we should be just ahead of Father’s Day, has never missed either of his daughters just before they got an “ouchie.” If neither Sasha nor Malia have ever scraped a knee, had a black eye, or even fractured a bone, then I guess he can pretend to be the perfect daddy. But then, you could also argue that without said minor injuries, the First Kids probably haven’t lived much of a life.

President Obama’s righteousness about fatherhood comes from the recognition that his own dad was, indeed, a douchebag. He knocked up Obama’s mom and quickly fled the country, only meeting his son once, and bringing him a basketball. There are fathers like that out there, but they’re few and far between. And they deserve our scorn. And I understand the President’s desire to talk about his own experience as a fatherless child. I get it. It must have been terrible and I’d probably talk about it too if my dad Bruce Wilson hadn’t been the incredible dad he is to this day (see my movie “Michael Moore Hates America” for an interview with Pops). (more…)