I bought some Calvin Klein Intense Power underwear and put them on one morning. I smiled when I admired them in a mirror. I would have the power of a superhero.

On the way to work, a Range Rover cut me off on Melrose Avenue. I held up my hand, pointed it in the direction of the offending vehicle and waited for all four tires to go flat.

Nothing.

At work, I dropped a pen on the floor. I focused my mind on it and pictured it flying into my open hand with a satisfying slap. Like it was attached with an invisible rubber band.

Nothing.

I gave the underwear one more chance to prove its power. At home after dinner, I squinted my eyes, waiting for the dishes to wash themselves.

Nothing.

Before I went to bed, I took off the Intense Power underwear and tossed the pair into the dirty clothes hamper.

Perhaps it’s just underwear, I told myself. Nothing more.

They were comfortable, though.