Billy Gibbons may well be able to play the guitar better than me. He may even be able to grow a mightier beard than me. However, I wouldn't fancy his chances if we went head to head chowing down a bowl of Heinz tomato soup.
Daryl Hall and Billy Gibbons: 'Sharp Dressed Men Man'
When we first took the Number One Son across the pond to New York City we did all the usual touristy stuff - Times Square, Central Park, the Chrysler Building, Empire State, Greenwich Village and, of course, Liberty Island.
As a Beatles nut (like his old man), James was keen to recreate John Lennon's iconic photo shoot in front of the Statue of Liberty. Who was I to deny him?
The Number One Son has not long left after spending a brilliant weekend with us. He's so together. And grounded; far more so than me when I was his age.
As a father of some twenty six years standing I sort of know how this parenting thing works now. You do everything in your power to keep them on the rails, point them in the right direction and pray they grow up to be safe and happy. And they, for the most part, let you do all that whilst, at the same time, gently mocking you.
On the eve of Good Friday 1930, anyone tuning in to the BBC to listen to the news would have been greeted with the briefest of brief announcements: 'There is no news today.' Piano music followed.
When a fellow blogger found himself with precious little to say recently, he simply posted a photograph of Joan Collins taken c.1960 about to go snorkelling in a yellow swimsuit. 'No caption required' would have been the caption, had he assigned it one.
Likewise today: it's all quiet on the Western, so please enjoy nothing more taxing than a library photo of Helen Mirren - back when she still turned heads.