So this is what it’s come to, I’m eating a fully English breakfast at SoHo House in the Meatpacking District and making a new Spotify playlist called “Haunting Klezmer Tracks”. Thing 1 and Thing 2 are down in the kid’s club probably making origami figurings of dead rock stars. This SoHo House club is a throw back to a time when children were to be seen and not heard. Hell, here they’re not even seen. Speaking of rock stars, we just rode the elevator up with Elvis Costello and his two small boys. They’re here for some kid’s birthday party we’re not invited to. I got off with the girls at the party room floor and followed them. It’s easy to play dumb with kids in tow. The mother was at the door greeting guests so we aborted the mission but not before the kids caught a glimpse of a pumpkin-shaped pinata. They made a scene and the mother just glared at me. EC looks good for 58. I got his age from my handy IMDB app where I also learned his real name is Declan Patrick MacManus. Love that app. I told Thing 2 she had a brush with greatness, “that was Elvis Costello!”, I said proudly, “one of daddy’s favorite singers.” Thing 1 chirped in, “I thought you said Elvis was dead?”. “Not that Elvis, the fatter one.” My wife just texted me, “thx 4 the time off Xx!” If she only knew. At that moment I see a skinny little man with a large nose and an impressive quaff of hair. His mop looks very familiar to me. It’s like someone stuck a poodle hide on a leprechaun, straightened it and gave it many blond highlights. He also knows how to wear a scarf. That’s it! It’s Rod Stewart. The fact he’s carrying a new born baby threw me off. I want to get his picture with girls but decide against it. One, it would make a scene and two, I’m enjoying my “me” time too much. I check IMDB again. Roderick David “Rod” Stewart, born in 1945 in Epping and by the looks of his companion, still getting more ass than a toilet seat. We share birthdays. How freaky is that? All this time I thought of him as some depraved soccer-loving poser but in reality he’s a hard working Capricorn, just climbing his own personal mountain like a crusty old Scottish mountain goat. What a day I’m having. Maybe if I hang around long enough I’ll see Elton John dominate the buffet. Sir Elton “Hercules” John, born 25 March, 1947, as Reginald Kenneth Dwight. I collect the girls from the kid’s club and return home to find my wife curled up on the couch enjoying a rare kidless afternoon. Her birthday is this week. I’m thinking of renting a room at SoHo House for the afternoon, dressing up like Rod and kicking a goal or two.