Road 2 Elsewhere, Excerpt #40*: Underfoot. Undersized. Underachieving. And so, to Paris.

How general disparagement prepared me for the next big phase of my life. WRITTEN AND ILLUSTRATED BY PETER MOORE

MY PRIVILEGE WAS SUBSTANTIAL. But it’s not as if my childhood was an extended spree. 

My three older brothers frequently pointed out what a puny dope I was. It hurt to hear that, especially because I was puny and dopey. 

One brother pioneered the practice of “keeping a bruise going” on my right thigh; he would always knuckle me in the same place, ensuring a perpetual sore spot that came to define my world view. 

Underfoot. 

Undersized. 

Underachieving, especially compared with my brainy brothers. 

Mr. Peanut had nothing on me.

But there was also a carried-forward benefit from being one of the Moore boys. I visited the high school as part of a middle-school choir, and was pulled off the risers during rehearsal by the choral director, who noted: “This is Billy, Chuck, and Steve’s little brother.” 

Then he turned to me: “What’s your name?” 

“Peter,” I choked, wary of what was next.

“Watch out, everybody,” the man said. “Here co…