It’s why and Dela where?

“I’M going to see Delaware,” I told a friend. “Who’s Delaware?” they asked.

I explained it’s a state where great minds think of sending our migrants. And it’s great for retirees — like maybe, we hope, Biden.

I learned Delaware’s main drink is Dogfish Head craft beer. Main dish: Scrapple, slippery dumplings and fries. Shove ketchup. It comes with a cup of malt vinegar. Main attraction: Rehoboth Beach, which has a gas station, nail salon and kebab stand. For anything else you go out of state.

No sales tax. It’s cheapo. The dress code is sleeveless tees. Which explains Mrs. Biden’s 1950s crappy skirts with machine imprinted flowers.

To see why Joe prefers his beach house to the White House, we arranged two weeks of advance calls confirming my visit. Then — exactly as I’m leaving — the state canceled. This entire homeland of America’s Chief of State could not receive me. No guide. Not one. None.

A whole 35-mile-long state — which houses the CEO of the Free World — its government, tourist office, hotel, limo service, newspaper couldn’t wake up one guide. Not even a gardener loaning his AARP oxen. Nobody!

Locals whom I already knew told me: “One party only runs us. Basically we’re a small county — insular, arrogant, incompetent — who became a state. Up for re-election recently was Kathy McGuiness who faced some charges after an audit. And there’s treasurer Colleen Davis found driving with a suspended license. Also, possibly due to excess sulfur, tap water may have a rotten eggs aroma. Plus, and this is a direct quote: “It’s interesting as to how Hunter’s father handles his bills.”