When your older brothers are extraordinary--but you're just extra ordinary, you realize you're alone.

Alone because to your parents: your best is someone's worst.

Alone because to society: you're "expecting too little of yourself."

Alone because to yourself: you're the encore following the grand debut.

The remedy of loneliness is acknowledgement--to break expectation.

To promote skepticism concerning the mundane.

So that's why I decided to become "the villain."

To become the Devil's Advocate.

And dinner was never the same.

Time was important to me. Although marathon training was tedious, running fast saved me time. I was always rushing to get to the end.

Concerned, the doctor urged me not to rush--don’t push yourself too hard, too soon--or you could lose everything. However I found that only when my muscles flared up and ignited my joints like firecrackers, did Runners High finally kick in to quench my self-immolation.

After several years, I was able to stop worrying about having to catch my breath. It was then that I had to face my body’s extents and limitations. It felt strange that my source of strength was also my source of limitation.

Attentive, my coach advised me that one shouldn’t fix what’s not broken--change is never neutral, life is a marathon--you’re either moving forward or breaking down. With youth and time on my side I heeded his advice and left myself alone.

Life is still ahead of me. When my feet can no longer support me I can be found beneath the waves. There, where my body no longer weighs down upon me, I have reached beyond my limitations.

I hold onto the moment, pushing myself a little further each time. Submerged, as second after second passes, everyone begins to suspect my secret:

My power to breathe underwater.

My best friend told me about this Superpower Shop in the Bronx.

Stairs with rusted rails led to the shop.

It was clearly a last minute thought.

To my surprise the door was unlocked.

“Good afternoon, can I help you?”

“Yes, my friend recommended your store--is it true you sell superpowers?”

“Yes. Would you like to try some out?”

“Thank you! Very much.”

I enjoyed the experience more than I thought:

The first was Flight. A killer opener.

If I hadn’t been struck out by the basement ceiling, it would have been a home-run.

“Did you know jumping is easier without gravity? Your feet never need to touch the ground!”

Second up to bat was Super Strength.

I deformed the batting cage accidentally with a “casual” pitch.

“Oh my! I am very sorry!”

He shrugged: “Always happens.”

Third was Invisibility. What a pop-fly!

My decision was up in the air so long that the owner locked the door and began surveying his monitor.

“What were you doing?” He demanded.

“Making poses in the mirror, of course! What else?”

I was enjoying myself so much that I hadn’t realized an hour had passed.

The owner, arms crossed, asked me if I had made up my mind.

“What superpower is it going to be?”

I smiled.

“Thanks for this once-in-a-lifetime experience…but I decided on none!”

“Really?” That was the first time the owner seemed surprised.

“Yes. Conventional powers only solve conventional problems. But to save the world I need to go above and beyond!”

He looked at me funny.

“Instead, I want this power: to always say the right thing at the right time.”

The owner paused, he was smiling.

“I don’t sell that. But I might just have what you need...”

The owner reached beneath the counter and handed me a book: The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster.

“Now listen carefully: To deal with any situation you will need to keep an open mind. This book will teach you how to do that.”

I took the book and left the store, destined to one day return…

AND THAT WAS HOW MY DESTINY AS A SUPERHERO BEGAN.

A self-professed wordsmith, I forge phrases as if an ancient art and spell cast semantics as if a superpower. I take pleasure in writing about anything or anyone.

However, I find auto-biographical writing immodest and self-exploitive. In my belief, it says less about who one is and more how one feels about their self.

Personally, I prefer questions with what, when, and where, over those with that, then, and there because the truth tends to align with generalities more than particulars.

Where we were when what happened is without further wonder.

That was then and there is only a one-time occurrence.

My truthful musings on auto-biography and common sense:

Everyone has to begin somewhere and some people are a work in progress.

One shouldn’t write the title of their life until they’ve finished their final chapter.

Mind your manners.

The manner by which one writes their life is reflective of their disposition.

You can never judge a book by its cover.

One should describe themselves through their actions rather than their physical appearance. Facial expressions are a stronger reflection of character than facial features.

My story has yet to be written

The Devils Advocate (DA) and the Astounding Athlete (AA) sit down to enjoy dinner. The baby brother pulls out a Big Mac from a takeout bag.

DA: "tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all"--I feel as though eating a McDonald's burger is just like that.

AA: Now…why is that?

DA: Because everyone has at one point. Even if they lament doing so. Just like bad love.

AA: Now…is it fair to compare love to something like a burger? It can't love you back.

DA: But it can! It can be bad and good…just like love.

AA: Really? But…how could love be bad?

DA: Love is a game that is good to its winners and bad to its losers. You see, eating a McDonald's burger is just like bad romance: things turn around and you find yourself being consumed.

AA: …Really? Now...how could somebody be eaten by ground beef?

DA: Not literally--figuratively! Once inside your stomach, it begins to eat you from the inside out…just like bad romance, it eats away at your heart!

AA: In that case…you better stay away from each other.

AA excuses himself from dinner.

Devils Advocate (DA) sits down to dinner. Charismatic Charmer (CC) is already at the table, studying a play script.

DA: Is that the school play?

CC: Yes, since it's the beginning of the year, I want to leave a lasting impression.

DA: As an aspiring actor, would you accept a bad role without being guaranteed another chance to perform?

CC: Of course! It's only playing a part.

DA: But…it might mean you would only be remembered for one thing!

CC: Do you mean like, the Joker's 'Why so serious'? What's the problem with that?

DA: But what if it's… embarrassing? Like the pull-ups super baby?

CC: So? Babies are cute no matter what. Everybody grows up.

DA: But what if he never did grow out of it? What if he does it every evening before he settles down with his wife? For the laughs?

CC: I see what you're getting at--what if your first debut was the world's last view?

DA: Exactly!

CC: Thanks! But don't worry, there's no way I'm going down in history as anything other than a statue!

CC Strikes pose and lights go out.

The Devils Advocate (DA) and Aberrant Academician (AA) sit down to enjoy dinner. The elder brother has his notepad with him and writes.

DA: Since actions speak louder than words, it's meaningless to commit anything to word.

AA: But how could one say that? The pen is mightier than the plow as they say.

DA: But the plow's hard work put food on my plate, and you can't eat words!

AA: Au contraire, you will eat those words! The pen is mightier than the plow because it is has more capability. In conflict, why choose to strike when one could write? While the plow does hard work, the pen does better work. Just because something is hard, doesn't mean it's better.

DA: But what you just said doesn't change anything! Words are only meaningful as they call for action…by those who would take action…if only they could.

AA: Well, actually it does. Your original argument was that since actions speak louder than words, then it would be meaningless to commit anything to word. But you just admitted that words are meaningful, because not everyone can do what they say and must ask for help. Besides, this takes us back to when you said you can't eat words, because you just ate yours.

AA starts another sheet on his notepad and scribbles a logic chart.

AA: Well, here you have it.

AA passes notepad to DA

AA: The logic of the argument, all our hard work, committed to words.

DA: Wow…would you prefer a handshake with a high five…or would a simple 'Thanks' suffice?

DA scrawls "Thanks" on the notepad, shoves it back to AA, and excuses himself from the table