I’m proud of my younger brother.

I’ve been spouting it for ages, but I love using the second pancake metaphor. See, when you make pancakes, the first one’s never going to come out pristine. The heat in the pan. The consistency of the batter. The size of the ladle. All new variables every time you want fluffy fried breakfast cake.

The first saucer is never a perfect circle. A little pale on one side, a little dark on the other. Folded on itself getting on the plate.

But that second pancake. Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s your intuition course correcting from the first trial. Maybe relaxing into that next try.

That second pancake is going to come out just right.

Peter is Mom and Dad’s second pancake.

Don’t get it twisted. The parentals are about as smart as they come. As siblings, we were blessed with parents willing to immigrate for all the privileges of America in her golden era, in the advent of the internet, avoiding the small pox vaccine, global conflicts like the WW1, WW2, the Cold War, and just before the nukes kill us all.

Mom and Dad taught us both good morals and critical thinking, in a nurturing and opportunity filled home, setting us up for success with all their efforts.

But Peter’s a bit special. From childhood, he’s had a knack for imagination and creativity that’s never diminished, only changed outlets.

He also countered Mom’s fanatism with tact and level headiness, even from a young age.

He had this knack of working extremely hard when it was needed.

[Sometimes manifesting as frantic all-nighters to make grades]

He’s got this easy going, uber-polite, interesting, and interested demeanor that speaks volumes of our parent’s upbringing, mixed with the confidence of someone that naturally blends into the cool crowd.

Worst of all, this kid’s smart, thoughtful, inventive, and rebellious in the dosage that predicts multitalented exceptionalism.

And he’s good looking to the boot.

It’s hard to compete when you keep getting blown out. [Ask Mom and Dad for the score]

So, I have to be a begrudging, grumpy, jealous, jaded older brother while I admit my unadulterated pride in him when he graduated Brown this weekend.

He’s grown a lot in four years, learning from exceptional professors and peers. He’s had space and time, which he used to great effect exploring, well, his fking alcohol tolerance for one. But also, economics, music, professionalism, writing, anthropology, the arts, sound engineering, his persona, and the world around him. He’s confident and perfect and a piece of shit.

But I’ve always looked up to him. And I’ve always believed in him. These four years are no different. And I can’t wait to see what he’ll do with the next four.