Tales of Dear Old Dad

His fondest memory of Dean Martin has nothing to do with martinis, cigarettes or women. Rather, Martin’s son, Ricci, remembers his father coming home at night and stopping in the kitchen to slowly butter a slice of white toast. The crooner would then look at his son, and, savoring his meal, say: “Now that’s living.”

Another favorite expression was “What d’ya say, pally?” As Ricci Martin notes, sitting in his mother’s house in Beverly Hills on a recent afternoon, “there was absolutely no answer to that.”

The younger Martin, the youngest son of Dean and Jeanne, is promoting his new memoir, “That’s Amore” (Taylor, $24.95).

Kitty Kelley would be disappointed. Ricci Martin invites readers into his Beverly Hills childhood home, but “it isn’t a ‘Mommy Dearest’ type of thing.” Rather, “it’s a love letter to my father.”

Among the myths the younger Martin wants to address is that his father was a hard-partying womanizer. “My father wasn’t the hell-raising Rat Packer,” Martin said. In fact, he had no time for parties. “He always said he didn’t care for the chitchat of cocktail parties. He’d say, ‘The chat I don’t mind; it’s the chit I don’t like.’” At times, Dean Martin would even call the cops on his own parties, pretending to be an irate neighbor. And the drunken routine on TV was just that, a routine, his son says. “On stage, the Scotch was really apple juice.”

When his father performed with Frank Sinatra, Martin would bring the house down. Backstage, after the show, a slightly upstaged Sinatra would ask that they swap jokes. But even when Martin performed Sinatra’s jokes, he would get the most laughs. “His delivery was magical.”

Martin, who also runs a recording studio near Park City, Utah, occasionally tours, performing his father’s hits. Many of his father’s fans show up. “I don’t kid myself; many of them are there because of dad,” he says. He’s not offended, though, and feels fortunate having grown up the son of Dean Martin. “He’s my hero.”

Chief’s Journey

Former New York City Police Commissioner Bernard B. Kerik shared with us the intensity of discovering details of his mother’s life as a prostitute and of her violent death. And he spoke of the paradigm-shifting trauma of the Sept. 11 attacks. We caught up with him last week at the Beverly Hills Hotel to discuss his memoir, “The Lost Son: A Life in Pursuit of Justice,” released in November (HarperCollins, $26.50).

With his editor, Judith Regan, and a writing coach, Kerik completed the 361-page memoir in about four months. He spent weeks revisiting the neighborhoods of his childhood, searching for clues about his past.

Kerik grew up in the slums of New Jersey. His alcoholic mother abandoned him as a toddler, and Kerik spent his childhood in the homes of relatives and friends until his father won custody. All he knew about his mother before he started the book was that she died in 1964. “The worst thing was discovering she had been beaten to death and that her death had not been investigated,” he told us.

Kerik said he finished the book in the wee hours of Sept. 11. Eight hours later, Kerik was on his way to ground zero. “In my lifetime, I’m pretty confident that nothing will surpass the tragedy, the devastation, the loss of life,” Kerik said. “Nothing.”

A month later, Kerik amended his book, describing that day and including about 30 police photos of the World Trade Center wreckage. Later, Kerik was criticized for using city-owned photos in his private memoir. Kerik said he used the photos because “what I wanted to do was show what I saw. A lot of them, I’m in.”

In the end, Kerik said he estimated the cost of the photos and donated that amount, $7,500, to the Twin Towers Fund “to shut the critics up.”

Give Me an S

Santa Monicans once again are demonstrating on the Third Street Promenade. This time, actress Michelle Phillips is joining them. At issue is the new city ban on henna tattoo artists offering their services on that shopping area’s streets. The ban was passed in December after an artist used permanent hair dye on a patron and the patron sued the city.

Phillips said she wants to show her disdain for the city’s decision by getting an S (for boyfriend Steven Zax) drawn on her arm. Most artists do not use permanent dye, she said. “It is absolutely absurd to ban this henna art,” she told us. “If kids want to get tattoos, henna art is a great alternative. Two weeks later it’ll be gone.”

Honoring Rudy

Former New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani is scheduled to receive the Ronald Reagan Presidential Freedom Award on March 8 at the Beverly Hilton Hotel. The honor is bestowed by the Ronald Reagan Presidential Foundation and recognizes individuals who promote freedom around the world.