Parlewithme

My bio (laid back version)

2010-01-09T22:47:00.000-05:00

Kevin Benoit...
I started Parlé when I was 17 years old in my first year of college. The only real print media experience I had was from starting my own high school newspaper and the summer after h.s. graduation I interned with a startup magazine basically helping him get contacts and try to get the publication off the ground. That magazine never launched.

I was in school for legal studies and never intended for a career in media, but while at John Jay I was getting a financial aid refund check every month I was in school. It was a good look, but I was spending the money without a care. After I’d spent the first few checks I stopped myself and told myself that I need to invest it in something that would impact my future once I was out of college. I was sitting in English class one day in early April 2004 and it all came together in that hour. I came up with the name, the concept, the slogan (not your average) and all I had to do was figure out how much it would cost.

By May 4, 2004 my first issue was out on the streets. A lot of the contacts I had found while I was interning for that other publication turned out to be the contacts for most of the features early on, and a lot of those same people are still in touch with me. Even though I had the refund check I had to have my girlfriend at the time, put the cost of the issue on her credit card. I think I gave her a couple hundred but she paid for a majority of it.

When I first started I had no idea what I was doing. I used to cut and paste my articles onto a sheet of paper because I didn’t know what photoshop was or how to graphic design. I didn’t have a camera or photographer so the companies had to provide everything. It was just a really big learning process for me. I’m still learning. I believe that you shouldn’t think too long or hard about things though, if you want to do it, just do it!!! Make mistakes, learn from them but keep doing. I know people who were talking about starting something around the same time I started Parlé…and their still talking. All that talking is for losers!

I just turned 23 in 2010, and I've been doing the mag almost 6 years. Not quite where I wanted to after 5+ years, but its here, and I’m not stopping until I am where I want to be, and even then…can’t stop, wont stop.

My apologies

2010-01-03T20:16:00.003-05:00

I'm sorry for being so neglectful towards the blog, things are just sooo busy right now with the magazine. If you follow the blog and look forward to my posts please check out the website www.parlemagazine.com as it has been getting most of my attention and will get a majority of my posts.
Thank you
-Kevin Benoit

Annual Parlé State of Affairs Address

2010-01-03T20:04:00.002-05:00

Every year around this time I do the annual Parlé address on the state of things with the magazine, the poetry tour and my life hoping to give people some insight on things. This year the address is slightly different, but just as important. I'd like ot think you can get something from it.

Anyone who knows me personally, I mean really knows me, knows I have a tendency to be quite weird. While everyone approaches a new year with positivity and with a fresh outlook, the first thing I think about when New Years comes around is 'whether this will be the year I die.' I constantly remind myself that the next day isn't promised, that old age isn't to be automatically expected. That might not be the best approach for everyone but for me its what keeps me going even when I may want to quit.

This year death got closer and closer to home, though it decided to skip our door once again. I still saw a lot of people pass and saw people get sick that may not recover. It's a sad world like that and any day it may be my turn, but everyday I ask myself what I'm doing to impact the world before it is my turn.

Every year I do this hoping that maybe a few people will be impacted and motivated to do something. Most of the time you never get a chance to realize who you impact, but in the last week alone I spoke to someone in prison that found Parlé and became inspired, and I also spoke to a magazine editor out in CANADA that read my address last year and used that as inspiration to create their own. It doesn't take much to make me happy, and those 2 things were more than enough to make the end to my year spectacular.

This Parlé grind has been good this year. Issues dropped on time, changed the look, got a few ads, visited a few states, met some nice people, made some new friends. I'm STILL not where I want to be, but I'm progressing everyday. Hopefully I'm making the people around me better too. Opening up doors for them that they didn't know were possible, showing the fam the potential, showing my team that the grind is all worth it. At the end of the day I don't do this for me, I do it for all those people around me, those I can see and touch on every given day as well as those I haven't met yet but may know of me or might get to know me. It's true, life is short, and we are small specs in the overall of things but our impact and our ability to reach grows a lot further than we could ever imagine and ever see. May I impact you and may you take that and impact as many people as you possibly can.

-Kevin Benoit
www.parlemagazine.com

2009's highlights
~Went from printing a total black and white issue in Jan/Feb on newsprint to save money to printing 2 issues in full color on magazine quality paper by December

~Parlé celebrated its 5th Anniversary in May of this year

~Interviewed Birdman in Miami, best weekend in Parlé history

~The Parlé Poetry Tour expanded its reach to several new states including California, Michigan, and Texas

~Returning to HarlemLIVE, though briefly happy to have gone full circle

~Launched Parlé's Females of Poetry Tour, a 3 year goal finally achieved

~Interviewed R. Kelly and got him on a cover

~Launching the website www.parlemagazine.com

In 2010 I'm going to interview Diddy, you can tell him I said it

A Thinking Mans Guide to the Failures of the Urban Music Scene Pt. 2

2009-09-16T01:55:00.002-04:00

This music thing is actually a lot simpler than it seems for the people who think about it from the business prospective. That’s why I know the people behind the desks are fine with urban music reaching it’s inevitable demise. Here are some of the reasons urban music is dying and just some of the things that can be done to save it.

1. The most obvious answer is for the channels that were dedicated to playing music to go back to playing music! MTV, BET, and VH1 were all created to promote artists and promote music. Now they promote reality shows and garbage. Serve your purpose, please!

2. The most necessary change is the least likely. Regardless of what you want to believe, ipods created this problem. Five years ago, sure people were downloading music, but they were doing it to create mix CD’s. when ipods became a necessity in every person’s daily life, downloading became necessary instead of just an option. If you never need a CD then you can get all your music from the damn computer and pay for it only if you want to be nice. It’s obvious and everyone knows it. Without ipods we would still need CDs! But the solution doesn’t involve the complete destruction of ipods, that would be stupid, it just demands more use of technology. CDs can be watermarked, which means they cannot be played in a computer and therefore they cannot be downloaded. It can be done because every time I get an album in advance from a record label it is watermarked so I can’t make bootleg copies before it is released. It may cost more money to produce but it would make CDs a necessity again and it would bring money back into the industry. Imagine if the new Jay album dropped without the possibility of a leak because everyone who had it on CD couldn’t burn it and put it in their itunes. Sure they wouldn’t be able to play it on their ipod but they could get the singles online if they really wanted it. Smarten up!

3. Anyone remember back when half the videos you saw had movie clips through them? It was because they were on the soundtrack for some movie. When was the last time you saw something like that. Now, undoubtedly there aren’t as much movies with African American casts but we need to get in where we fit in and need to get these soundtracks going. The movie companies and the labels need to get a partnership back up. That gives the artist and the movie double promotion. It worked so well years ago, where did we go wrong?

4. Artists need to come into the game with a crew. A team that will hold you down and keep your buzz up, not hold you back. Every artist who does it properly succeeds, from Jay to Nas to Nelly to 50 and even more recently with Young Jeezy and DJ Khaled. All these new artists are out here looking lonely and scared. The fewer moves you make, the easier it is to be forgotten when you are quiet.

5. Now this one might sound stupid, but ain’t nothing wrong with a good old fashioned hip-hop beef if it is done properly. Just attacking everyone in your path is ridiculous…what Charles Hamilton as a new artist with no real industry co-sign was simply silly, you don’t want to make enemies before you even have built your buzz, you just want to make it known that you are better than the next man lyrically. It keeps your name in the press and if your diss record is good enough you might end someone’s career and cement a legacy. It’s a business, challenge the competition but play it smart.

Those are just the basics. If you want a more detailed list we can sit down for lunch and talk tactics. I wish I had a record label, it would be the truth, believe that!!!

A Thinking Mans Guide to the Failures of the Urban Music Scene Pt. 1

2009-09-16T01:49:00.004-04:00

For the last five, six years or so music and entertainment have become a major part of my life. There was so much excitement when I stepped into the business, eager to get those interviews with the hottest celebs and to just learn more about the art. Now the excitement has all but fizzled. Urban entertainment and music appears to be a dying cause and I’m left carrying a magazine I can only hope will be able to hold on until things get better.

It took a while for me to understand why people were all over Jay-z these last few years. It’s true he represents the golden era of hip-hop and yes he is one of the best to ever do it, but that was never enough for me. I’ve made it my duty to go out and get every Jay-z album and certainly there is no doubt that the man makes hits, I just don’t think those hits always result in hit/classic albums. Bigger than that I am honest with my music and Jay has been in a decline. His music is not nearly where it used to be. Still it seems that any bad talk about Jay automatically makes you a hater. All that said, I finally realize that Jay-z is probably the last hip-hop artist to garner attention the way he does, and most certainly the last to move an audience at this rate. People like Lil’ Wayne and T.I. can move the units but I doubt they’ll ever be able to look back at a career as illustrious as Hov’s. That’s quite unfortunate for music.

The way it looks, hip-hop and urban music is just a few short years away from becoming an old man’s tale that we’ll tell our children. With the way music is going and CD sales are plummeting I seriously doubt artists will put out albums at all in the next two to three years. It just wont be necessary. I know people who haven’t brought an album in the last 5 years, but have every track on their favorite albums. You probably know people who haven’t brought albums in longer! Record labels are losing faith and losing money and they won’t stand for it too much longer.

All the while, people like me who live off the business have to watch in hopes that this last of the dying breed provides some sort of breath of air for the game.

Parlé has had its share of ups and downs, but never because the pool of talent wasn’t available…not until now at least. I sit around flipping through cover concepts in my head and not one makes sense in the long run. Even the ones I eventually run are questionable. Then we get people like Kanye West who actually have a position in the upper echelon of entertainment and he decides he wants to make a fool of himself every chance he gets.

Music and urban entertainment needs a savior, but unfortunately its not going to happen. We’re so far gone that there is no bringing us back. Sadly, people like me who have invested so much into this life have almost no choice but to sit around and watch it crumble…and because we love it so much we’re too stubborn to jump shit before it goes all the way down.

...lonely living

2009-09-11T01:50:00.001-04:00

When I was 15 years old I had my first “semi” serious relationship. Six to eight months into it I found out the girl was cheating on me. Three days later I was in another relationship, with just as much invested in it. I stayed with her for a year and a half or so until it just felt like it had run its course. We broke up on Monday and I was locked into another situation by Friday. I think it was then that I realized I had a problem.

My problem is shared by millions of people across the globe, but everyone has a different way of handling it. My problem? A fear of being alone. I like company, preferably a female “like” interest. Early on that “like” interest would quickly become “the love of my life” and we’d be in a relationship for the title and the benefits. It seems a lot of people , more women from what I see, are fine with that solution to the problem, but personally that solution has come to disgust me, so much so that these days I prefer to be the complete opposite.

Believe me, I still like company—preferably a female like interest—but a relationship takes building up to. I’m 22 and have already had 2 very serious relationships along with a handful of meaningful situations. They have all taught me a lot, but above all have taught me patience, especially when dealing with the opposite sex. I’m so patient that I’ve already made the decision that I need to be with a woman at least 7 long years before we get married. And I take the 7-year plan quite seriously. With that said I feel like if I’m looking at a 7-year journey towards a strong future, I can wait as long as I want before I’m locked into a relationship. If we are going to work I don’t see why six months, nine months or even a year is too long of a trial period before a relationship. Sure it may be prolonging the inevitable, but I might also save us many months of unhappiness.

I’ve learned to cope with m problem, women on the other hand haven’t been so receptive to my solution. I’m still a work in progress, I have yet to be perfected, but one day I hope to be.

Life isn’t all about side kicks, video games and myspace…or is it?

2009-09-02T15:23:00.002-04:00

For the past 11 months, I’ve worked with teens in a couple of very hands on positions. Over that period of time I learned so much about myself and about people, and though I will continue to learn, this piece of life helped me understand just where I stand in the world.

I first worked as a mentor and a motivator of teens in a high school after school program for about 9 months. Then immediately after I was an assistant coordinator and editor of content for an online teen news magazine.

I can’t say I knew what to expect when I started looking for jobs that involved working with teens. My degree is in legal studies but my background in writing is what led me to young adults. I figure I have something valuable I can teach them and the fact that I’m considerably young myself, it might be a lot easier to get the message across.

Once working with teens in any capacity, it doesn’t take long to realize how much they are being short changed by the system. They say in life you get what you pay for, so I guess it makes sense that the free public education these students are receiving is serving up the least amount of education legally possible. It’s so bad, I’d like to get a civil class action negligence case against the mayor and the entire education system. I’ll save the exact problems for another entry, but what puzzled me most was that none of the young teens seemed to recognize the issues. I met more young adults in the last 11 months who don’t know how to read and write on at least a 9th grade level than I think I’ve ever met in my life. The number of people who couldn’t write a proper complete sentence, much less a complete paragraph was quite astonishing. So I quickly began to understand why they didn’t want to write. And who wants to read when you don’t know what half the words mean. Maybe its always been this bad and I was just one of the lucky few to make the best of it, but I feel like its gotten much worse.

These young adults are faced with more problems than they could ever comprehend at such a young age, but they have found ways to cope with their issues. For the boys, games serve as the perfect escape from the world. There is a new video game every week to take your mind off the fact that you can’t write in script and by the time you realize you can’t sign your own working papers the good folks at Nintendo or Sony introduce a completely new system. For the girls, it's sidekicks, smart phones, youtube, and meebo to distract them from the fact that they can’t spell Tuesday or Wednesday, considering electronically all you need is T-day or W-day to get by. I honestly believe some of these kids wouldn’t be able to spell their own names if they didn’t have it memorized from seeing it so much.

For most of the last 10 years I’ve been told that other people aren’t like me and that I can’t expect people to be as motivated as me or as advanced as I was. It never made sense to me until recently. Most people are content with themselves and rather be oblivious to their setbacks. Ignorance is truly bliss. After learning all this, ironically, I’m not even mad any more. Yes, they are going to get older and will be forced to deal with grown situations sooner than they can imagine, but that’s just it…they shouldn’t have to deal with anything more than the next video game or puppy love in these early teen years. It’s our job as responsible adults to try to teach them through everyday life, but these children are exposed to way too many things beyond their years already anyway, no need to rush them anymore. I intend on trying to make young adults more progressive and hopefully I can help some more students write a complete sentence, work on their spelling and even write in script but I can't expect them to understand how far behind they actually are. They shouldn't be held responsible for other people's short comings, it just not fair.

SO next time you see some child enjoying their childhood…let them be, because for them, at that age, life is really all about video games and myspace.

The Return

2009-09-02T15:19:00.002-04:00

I decided to blow the dust off the keyboard and get this blog back up. The goal is to put up a new post every Wednesday. Hope you enjoy them.

2008 year-end status update

2009-01-11T19:27:00.002-05:00

Once again, a new year is upon us, faster than I was able to grasp, but nonetheless it is here. I am thankful and more importantly, I’m optimistic about the opportunities and possibilities that this new year holds.

If no one else has said it, 2008 was a great year. No relatives, nor friends, nor associates were taken by death and as far as I know, all are healthy as need be to approach the new year positively and with ambition.

For myself, 2008 began with lots of uncertainty and sickness, but the hardships and doctor visits proved to be full of more lessons and life analysis than I had gotten in many of my years past. I’d like to think I was on a clear path before, but now I’m focused, clear headed and on a mission more than ever. I found more personal success this past year because I finally allowed myself to see what’s truly important to me, and I have made a commitment not to allow outside factors to be the least bit of a hindrance anymore. Things will go wrong, and there are so many things in life that we completely have no control over, but if we take complete control over self and understand where we are struggling to get ourselves, than the hurdles become small pebbles we skip over on our pursuit.

How’s Parlé? Could be better, but we ended 2008 on an amazing note, and the future is brighter than it’s ever been. Name an artist who was making moves in 2008 and we got a feature (give or take a couple). The same is looking to be true for this new year. As far as the tour, we’re flying now…literally. We touchdown in California and Michigan in the coming months and it only gets better with time. Not only are we finding success, but it’s great to see the extended family finding success as well. Charles is signed, with a single, a video and a magazine cover under his belt. Naima put on her play and is building up for a future in theater. And Brian (Sciryl) dropped his 2nd mixtape with plans for more very soon. All is well in Parlé land and it would be selfish of me to expect more.

As with any year, there are new goals and missions that have been set out for myself and for Parlé. My baby turns 5 this year, a milestone I dreamed of seeing, but can’t say I always expected to see. Not sure how we’ll celebrate yet or what the future will hold for us but I can only expect the best. We’ll continue to aim for the stars in 2009 and with a little bit of help I hope to at least get a trip to the clouds. Until then…it’s still, Not Your Average!!!

My President (Elect)

2008-11-05T20:33:00.000-05:00

I had a great nights rest, one that was genuinely peaceful where I could lay rest assured that finally we the people had earned a victory.Our win was bigger than the Superbowl, the feeling is better than the one I hope to experience if the Knicks ever earn the coveted NBA championship. This is a win that won't go away at the beginning of next season, it is a victory that will last a lifetime and impact generations. It is bigger than we can ever imagine.

Growing up in a low income household you quickly learn that you should never count your chickens before they hatch. I even live by the ideal that you hope for the least/worst that way you don't set yourself up for disappointment. That's why throughout the entire Obama campaign. I never got too excited. I always hoped for the best but never did I get too far ahead of myself. Not once did I allow myself to think the majority of America would want to see this man--a black man, hailing from Chicago with very little political experience--holding the biggest title in the World. My cynicism can take a back seat, at least for the remainder of the year.

As a child, my father would always tell me that one day, even I could be president of this great country. I can't say I ever truly believed it. And I'm pretty sure he never believed it either. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that we would ever see an African American president, a friendly face if you will. Things have changed now. I have hope now, I'd like to think we as a people now have hope. I've been inspired to try to accomplish more than my cluttered mind allows me to imagine. When I push my students (at my after school program) I can point to a larger role model. When I tell my frieds that they can do anything they put their mind to I will say it with conviction. Most importantly when I tell my children that even they can be the President of the United States, I will believe it! All because of the examples set by...MY PRESIDENT (elect).

My Team

2008-10-30T00:16:00.003-04:00

Although every trip has its similarities, I'm always wide eyed and excited to experience whatever excitement may come from the road. Though it's been 3 years of this journey that I like to call the Parle' Poetry Tour, I never take any of it for granted. You often hear people who have fell off from their peak talk about how they never really got a chance to take it all in but I always take time to smell the roses, though they may smell like...woo woo, they are still roses!

When we began I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into or exactly what it would take to accomplish what I wanted but I knew I had a vision, and with time all visions become a motion picture. That makes it even more important for me watching to vision become bigger and better with each trip. from rocking the 3rd floor at 301 W. 125th Street (HarlemLIVE) to hitting the stage at CUNY colleges, graduating to schools in upstate New York, Pa, and New Jersey and now evolving to the point where I am getting calls from schools in California, Wisconsin, Maine, Massachusetts, Michigan, Texas and Connecticut. I can't even afford to close my eyes when we begin on a journey--not the night before not the night of, not during the 3 hour (and often times longer) rides to the schools. for me it's all a part of seeing the world and stretching the vision a lot further than many imagined it could ever be.

The vision started with my love for music and the possibilities I know I could make possible because of Parle'. The talent was the easy part, making it gel together was another issue altogether. I got together 4 male poets, 2 rappers, and 1 female poet. I put my stamp on it and called it a tour. The talent quickly shifted to meet the vision while also complying with other's personal goals. I never told anyone they couldn't be part of the vision in the beginning or over time, but some just left, either because they felt they had out grown the vision, they didn't believe in the vision or just had another vision. Either way talent wise, and production wise happy with the team that's currently assembled.

The new season started off the other night with more of my same anticipation for me at least. Even though we were performing at a school we'd already been to in the past(Keystone College, pa), it was a new day and it was our first show since May. It almost seemed as if our theme song for the trip was 'Swagger Like Us'...a perfect fit for the new 4 member team (if you count me). Except with us its Kesed for the word play, Marcus for thought provoking controversy, Devin got humorous stories, and then there was me, the prophet of mainstream poetry, extra crafty and business savvy, the definition of versatility. On paper and live in the flesh nothing can really match it, and on the level I see things, I don't think anyone even understands how serious it is. The journey continues, and I continue to produce this motion picture, the story of... My Team.

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?ref=home#/pages/Parle-Poetry-Tour/19917721085

My standards...

2008-10-14T23:28:00.001-04:00

I have many goals in life, some more important than others. Some I was likely born with, a few of them, I've picked up like loose change on my journey through life. The way I see things, life is full of lots of small trivial things and just a couple of very important decisions/life choices. One of the important things for me among all others is that I would like to be a good man, just a solid all around good man.

I guess with our role models being who they are and the world taking a toll everyday morally, the idea of being "good" has long been forgotten by the masses. Still as I think about my life, there's nothing I would rather than to turn out to be an ideal person. A good husband, a good father, a good brother, a decent son, a good friend, good role model...GOOD. But, as each passing day it seems that it's becoming harder and harder to be good at the simple things, the things I pride myself on. It almost seems like I'm destined for failure one way or another and that scares me.

I'm surrounded by a lot of good people, some even not so good, but everyone around me I try to treat with the same courtesy, the same care. I place people on a pedestal, hoping that they are motivated, and touched by me in anyway. When I can't provide answers I feel like I'm coming up short. When I can't be there for someone at any weak moment or time of need I feel as if I failed them. Every once in a while someone is beyond my means, I guess I can't help them all, but if my character has been written into this story of life to provide the answers then what do I do when even I've run out [of answers].

As a child even before I understood what love and relationships were, or how to be a "good man", I knew what I wouldn't do. Over the years the list has changed, some for the best, some the opposite. To this day however most of those important things remain on the list. I will never hit a woman, never intentionally hurt a woman, I will only marry one woman, and our children will be the only ones I have. As unrealistic as that may sound in this day and age, I'm not willing to sway on those. It scares me to think I might not be able to live up to my own standards for whatever reason. By messing up on simple things like those I may disappoint myself more than anyone else can ever disappoint me. How can I live with myself if I were to fail?

Needless to say how I feel about my company and my responsibility to "my baby". It's all a serious burden I have to carry with me everyday. If I fail at being good then am I just normal, am I bad? I guess these are the struggles of being good, the struggles of trying to live up to my standards...

My Mother

2008-10-05T15:01:00.002-04:00

(You have to start two posts ago with my parents to get the full affect of this one.)

When I was 7 years old I watched a movie with my whole family. It was on CBS and I think it starred Mel Gibson. I don't remember the name or what it was about but at the end the women in the movie feed the man wild mushrooms, which are apparently poisonous and they killed him. Ever since I haven't been able to eat mushrooms. Bigger than that, that night the idea of death finally hit me. Although I'd heard it many times before, it finally sunk in that night. As I lay on the top bunk look at the ceiling, my eyes began to water. I cried for a few minutes thinking about death. I wasn't afraid of my own death either. I was crying at the thought that one day my mother would die and I'd never see her again. Just the though of that hurt and I couldn't bare to imagine that coming true.
My mother has always meant the world to me and between her and my sister they symbolize every woman I can ever meet and I know I can't do any woman wrong—intentionally at least—because of them. My mother has done crazy things for her childrem, and for herself and everyday of our lives she continues to earn her stripes, legally and illegally. She works harder than anyone I know, so hard its to a fault.
When I was a little dude she worked at a clothing factory from 7am until about 7pm. That gave her enough time to come home, help us with our homework, watch t.v. and get a good nights rest so she could do it again the next day. When I grew a bit older she turned to home health aid and she worked with old people. She started doing it on the weekends and then she'd be home during the week and she'd tell us the stories of her week. We'd watch soap operas, everything from guiding Light to Young & the Restless to General Hospital, with The Price Is Right and some Oprah in between. She was always there.
Then in 1996 she got pregnant with my little brother. Those were the best of times. Not only would I be getting a little brother but she was home and we could share every moment together. The summer of '96 was memorable in so many ways. Not only did Dominique Dawes win the Gymnastic gold for the Americans, but me and my mother watched every moment of those Olympics. She taught me how to play Casino and it quickly became my favorite card game. She made me feel her stomach when my brother was kicking and when he was born she actually called me to name him. For a ten year old that was big and we had developed one of those bonds you see on t.v. Once my father came home I'd retreat back to my own area but by the time he came home it was late so moms and I had already made the best of our day.
Gradually after my brother was born, I guess that's when things started to change. Maybe it's because the cost of living got higher, or maybe its because we had a new addition to the family. Or maybe it was because my pops has never been able to keep a steady job to save his life. Either way moms decided she was going to carry the family on her back. The go-getter in me has always been all for it but the son in me got lost in transition somewhere along the way.
Work became her life in a way I hope work can never get to me. For my elementary school graduation she missed it (and so did my pops) because of work. I've hated graduations ever since.
She worked weekends, then she worked nights. Then eventually she decided that she just wouldn't come back home during the week. And since she was working so much most of that one to two days would be spent sleeping.
Still the hustler, she never stayed stagnant. While doing home health aid, she took a few classes, passed a few tests and ended up landing a job with people with disabilities. While doing that, she enrolled in some classes and passed some tests and landed a job in hospitals as a nurse. She continued to step her game up, continued to raise her pay grade and continued to set a good example. The hustler in me loved to see her set goals and match them. The son in me loved to see her reach those goals but still somewhere along the lines I got lost in transition.
Today she works in the hospital at night, and works with mentally disabled people during the day. She doesn't come home during the week, sleeping in a car to get rest between jobs, and she spent a total of approximately 48 hours home each week, half of those sleeping. Since junior high school I can think of no joyous memories I have with my mother, and the closest thing I have to spending time is the last couple of Mother's Day events I threw. Moms works on Thanksgiving and Christmas and on New years, she's home…solely so she can sleep. She takes a week off every year though, sometimes more, but we haven't talked in so long, I don't even know where we'd start.
Moms used to love the Knicks. She would cheer when they scored and laugh at me when I was disappointed that they lost. Moms knew every song on the radio and could probably sing along as weird as it would sound. Moms knew football and baseball, didn't know the rules but she knew if I liked a team and if they loss and who the best players were. Moms knew soap opera love lives were just as important as real world love loves and Sonny and Carly would never get their relationship straight.
I don't know what she likes anymore, or what she can relate to or anything like that. I got so lost in transition that me and my own mother have lost every possible connection. I wouldn't even know how to get that connection back because truthfully I can't compete with work.

My Father (my parents part 1)

2008-09-29T02:50:00.003-04:00

I grew up in a two-parent home, but I’ve always believed that sometimes, just maybe, a two-parent home isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. My father lived with his first wife, the first 5 years of my life. She gave birth to their last child 10 months after I was born. I was still a very young child so I can’t really explain the obvious questions.

When I was five years old, my sister and I helped my mother pack up and we moved to a one bedroom with my father on Franklin Avenue in the Crown Heights section of Brooklyn. My memories of the move, our new arrangement and the apartment aren’t really pleasant. There were a lot of new transitions and our family changed up pretty fast.

My father brought the strict parental mentality to the family. My mother would bust that ass if you did something wrong, but she was genuinely nice and more lenient. My father on the other hand was strict with his whole demeanor. For me that made him unapproachable from the gate.

The first memory I have of him is him coming to pick me up from school after I had a fight in the first grade. Some kid hit me. I hit him and the teacher wanted me to say sorry when all was said and done. I refused. My father backed me up.

The first real dilemma I had with my father came on one of my first days of 2nd grade after I’d transferred from private school to public school. One morning as my sister and I were leaving the house, he told us that when we returned we would have to call him by another name. We’d been calling him by his first name since he came into the house but on that day it was all to change. I thought about it all day. I asked classmates for their opinions and deliberated options until my head hurt. When I finally returned home at 3p.m. I still didn’t have a new name for him. For my sister it was easy, she came right in ans said “hi daddy” like it came naturally to her. I avoided the interaction as long as I could but when he finally called me into his room the only words I could find were “Hi Sonny,” calling him by my mother’s nickname for him. That didn’t really work. I got one of many lifetime lectures and ended up calling him father or something like that for the rest of the week.

Our relationship never took off. Ever. We didn’t have much in common, I never really wanted to be around him, mostly because I always felt there was a lecture coming and even to this day, a simple 2-minute convo can lead to a 2-hour lecture at the drop of a dime. For me everything seemed to take a turn for the worse once he came into my life. There was a sense of joy when he wasn’t around, but once he was there the whole mood shifted. It probably didn’t help that I wasn’t the perfect child either.

Over the years two major things happened that I feel ended any type of connection between us. If you know me, than you know I can take a lot before I flip, but the smallest thing can turn me away from you completely.

The first thing: When me and my sister were young, maybe I was 6, and she was 11. We were sitting there watching Darkwing Duck and he called us into his room. Usually when we got called like that it was because we did something wrong. My sister gave me this look like, “What did you do?” I thought about it because like I said I wasn’t that great of a kid, but on this day I was sure I did nothing wrong.

We got into the room, paranoid and unsure what was going on and my father tells us to go get the stick. (We didn’t get hit with a belt, we got hit with a stick.) He didn’t say anything else, he just waited. Now my sister was really pissed knowing I’d likely done something else that she had to share an ass whooping for. The stick was in the kitchen, and on that day it was the longest walk to the kitchen and back to the bedroom ever. I racked my brains trying to figure out what I’d done or said or whatever, but I was drawing a serious blank.

I started crying, I think my sister started to cry as we walked what felt like the Green Mile. I don’t remember if he called us into the room 1 by 1 or if he called my sister in first or anything like that. I remember standing there and then he told me to put my hands out and close my eyes. (we got hit in our palms with the stick until we couldn’t take it anymore, then it was whatever from there.) I braced myself and waited, still not sure what I was getting beat for. I don’t remember exactly what happened next, whether he thre it, or just placed it in my hand but I ended up with a small bag of Runts candy in my hand and he was laughing saying surprise. I don’t remember if I liked Runts before or not, but I knew from that point on that Runts was my least favorite candy.

The second thing was more over the course of time. We weren’t allowed to have money, one of the first rules my father enforced when he came into our lives. I spent my last dollar at 5 years old and it was a long time before I saw another. But, when I started the 2nd grade my sister started junior high. At some point he decided that she would get an allowance and that they’d go shop for her every weekend to keep her on point with gum or whatever the case may be. I got nothing…first time I got pressured into stealing something from the store was the 4th grade (a bag of chips). Second time I got my ass whooped by the store manager with the broom stick for trying to smuggle a 50 cent soda. My parents never found out though. (thats just to give you some history)

When I went to junior high I expected to get that “allowance” my sister had gotten. It never happened. When I went to high school I thought maybe then the funds would start coming in. boy was I wrong. I never said a thing, never asked for a dollar and I figured I’d just have to do for self. I started selling bootleg cds and the rest is history.

To this day, my father and I just can’t get it right and I’m sure we never will. And truthfully I don’t want us to.

My Parents (Intro)

2008-09-29T02:47:00.002-04:00

My aunt came to visit this summer. She lives out to country but every year or so she makes an appearance for a month. We rarely spoke, but one day she made sure to corner me in my room and ask me something she needed to have some clarification on.
“Both of your parent have come to me saying that you don’t talk to them,” my aunt started. “What’s wrong with your relationship with them, why don’t you talk to them?”
I didn’t even have to think about my response. If there is one thing I learned about my family over the years its that you don’t say anything that can lead to drama. So adamantly I replied, “Nothing. We’re good.”

Since then I’ve had plenty of time to think about the real answer to that question. It’s so complicated I had to break it down in 2 parts. Part one is my father. Parle two is dedicated to my mother. You’ll have to stay tuned for that one.
While writing these I’m keeping my sister in mind. She’s big on keeping your personal life, personal. I of course am not.

My Stats part 1

2008-09-24T19:58:00.002-04:00

Things about me:
1) Real Name: Kevin Benoit

2) Birth Name: Kerven Meuze

3) Business: Parle'... thats an accent over the e. The name is french meaning to speak. I started the magazine the year after h.s. graduation. (May 2004) I wanted to continue with the name from my high school newspaper (The Wingate Voice) but the Voice is already taken in NYC. So I went with the next best thing. And Parle' just sounds so sexy. www.parlewithus.com

4) Worked as editor of an online magazine/non profit organization for 2 years...www.harlemlive.org

5) I've met a lot of people over the years and I try to stay on good terms with all of them. It doesn’t always happen the way we plan.

6) I'm 21, but that’s just my age.

7) Favorite T.V. show: Scrubs-it's hilarious, a great pick me up, and everyone on the show reminds me of someone I know in real life.

8) Favorite Sports teams: NBA: Knicks, NFL: Eagles, MLB: Mets, NHL: Rangers. Combined they have one championship since I was born-it was the hockey team and hockey is my least favorite sport of the 4.

9) I do not believe in God. Don't mean to be blunt but it is true. I tried, but it doesn't work for me. I will never tell anyone else not to believe in God or Jesus or the Bible, I just personally can not believe one being/spirit/force can control everything right or wrong that happens in the world. And I promised myself a while ago that I wont just jump to believing in God just because things aren't going my way. That’s a lame way to go out.

10) I was baptised. I went to Catholic School for 2 years and I was an altar server for 5 years. Even had my first communion. My 2nd girlfriend took me to youth service at her church for a year and between her, the pastor and the brother (church staff) they tried their hardest to teach me everything about God and the Bible so that I could be saved. I learned a lot and I wanted to believe but I saw the flaws and I couldn't cheat myself... I spend my life spreading the word, so that I can get to heaven and bask in his glory. In heaven, you don't know family, you don't know friends, all you have is the Lord and his glory… I made my choice.

11) Favorite Book: Inherit The Wind. It’s actually a play about a man who tries to teach Darwin's evolution in a high school science class. He is brought to court because it is illegal to do so in Tennessee at the time. Great book.

12) Favorite Movie: My Girl, though for years I thought it only revolved around the boy dying for the girl in the park &
The Notebook, i couldn't write it better myself.

13) Raised in a 2-parent home, but have my share of stories

14) Siblings: 2...well make that 7, but who's really counting these things

15) Longest relationship: 3+ years

16) Biggest fear: Dying without accomplising my major goals

17) I'm a Capricorn

18) Graduated H.S. at 16 years old/College at 20

19) 2 birthmarks, 1 is the Kwanzaa Candle across my chest/abdomen

20) I don't like working for people but I have worked 5 jobs in my lifetime. Been fired every time (might be wrong about 1 of them though). Make that 6 jobs now. We’ll have to see what happens with this one.

21) I chipped my tooth in the 6th grade. I was playing basketball in the gym and on a fast break I was going so fast trying to get a block, I jumped someone else jumped accidently bumping into me. The momentum sent me right into the wall. You know how gyms are in schools, no padding just STRAIGHT BRICK.

22) When I was young I had a very creative imagination (maybe I still do) and that played itself out in my dreams. One of my weirdest is me walking into my kitchen and everything starts dancing, I mean dish washing liquid to cabinets all getting down. Talk about weird!

23) The day I found out Christopher Wallace died I didn't go to church because I was home, sick. Lying there on the couch I cried for like 5 minutes. R.I.P. B.I.G.

24) I wanted to be a basketball player for the first 13 years of my life. I really, really did, but I couldn't play ball-never learned.

25) I actually went to high school in Far Rockaway, Queens before I transferred to Wingate in Brooklyn. It was a "school for a career in sports" I thought they were going to teach me how to be a basketball player.

26) For my junior high school graduation I sang as part of the choir, I even had a solo. It was actually a gospel song and I was rapping a Kirk Franklin verse.

27) My perception of women changed forever at like age 7. Me and my sister were in a park and I didn't feel like being there anymore. She was standing on a swing, swinging of course and I grabbed it in mid-swing so I could make her hurry up and get out of there. She fell, scrapped her knee and started crying. I felt so bad, I subconsciously decided I could never hurt a woman again in any way.

28) I used to say the first thing that came to my mind, every time something came to mind. Then during my freshman year of high school I volunteered to go to a children's hospital to give Christmas gifts. We went to the room of one child maybe about ten years old with a broken arm. He told us he was going to stay in the hospital straight through Christmas. I blurted out "Damn, I would die if I had to stay here through Christmas." Not the move! Ever since I think a lot more before I say anything, therefore a lot of the times I rather say nothing at all.

29) I wrote my first full novel in High school at 14 years old. I started one in elementary school and started an erotic novel in junior high. All would need too much editing to do something with now.

30) The first few months after I started Parle I was offered an internship at Vibe Magazine...I declined.

31) One of my nicknames in high school was Hyphen

32) I planned my first event, a fashion show in high school (16 years old). MC Lyte was there in the first row. I eventually planned 2 more. Queen Pen, Black Child of Murder Inc., and Serious Jones have been some of the featured guests.

33) I always tell people I am going to die at 39 years old. Realistically I don't know why, but at least I can believe I wont die before that age.

34) I do not want a funeral. I want a damn party. If anyone is crying I didn't do my job in life.

35) I own over 500 cds, I try to listen to every single one of them and at least 2 times a year I play them one by one-takes about 2 months to finish.

I'd like to hear about you as well. You can email me at parlemagazine@gmail.com or you can comment back.

My Baby

2008-09-19T22:46:00.001-04:00

I’ve often heard of parents writing their children letters or creating video messages so their children could understand what they [the parents] had to go through. I thought it might be best if I used the same formula to explain the thoughts and feelings I have for my first-born. Someday I hope you’ll grow to understand your true meaning and why you mean so much to me.

It was Spring of 2004 when you were born. I’ve never been one to plan my life too far ahead so from the moment you were conceived to the day you cried out that first time, I didn’t do too much to prepare. What I did do was figure out your name. I knew you would have to live with it for the rest of your life so it had to be classy. People everywhere will one day call your name, I made sure you could wear it with pride any day, and at any age. Besides that, I didn’t shop for accessories, didn’t even think about where you would sleep, because with your name alone I knew you’d make me proud.

Your mother chose not to stick around. I’m not sure if that’s fair to even say. It wasn’t her choice to bring a life into the world, that was all me. I’ve been your mother and your father since day one, though there have been many women who have come in and out of your life. I’ve tried to make them stick, but if its hard for men to be step fathers, it’s mission impossible making women into step mother’s. Maybe I just haven’t given any of them a fair chance, but I’m protective of you. What father wouldn’t be?

In the beginning I didn’t know what to expect. Maybe I should’ve went to Barnes and Nobles and gotten some books or something. For me though it was much more fun learning as you grew. You were cute, so you got me by early on. I made my share of mistakes though, took you out looking mismatched, sometimes sloppy, but no one said anything. We got better as time went on. I learned to be the best father I could. And when I didn’t know what to do I called Patricia, (a great mother in her own right) and she got you right. She made sure you looked good on your 2nd birthday. That was a big day for you. A big day for us. Patricia does her part to help whenever she can and that’s why she’ll always be a big part of your life. She’s like your ‘godmother’, always there when I call. Thinking about it a lot of people have stepped into your life and provided a helping hand when I needed it. All helping me and you get this far. Your ‘aunt’ Shaunetta and your ‘uncle’ Kamal have both made an impact, one we’ll never be able to forget.

As you’ve gotten older I’ve done a better job preparing you for the world ahead. We didn’t celebrate your 3rd birthday, and we didn’t do your 4th birthday justice either but every year you still bring a smile to my face. Every year you remind me why I decided to have you. When you were just 4 months old someone tried to tell me that I would be horrible, and that in no time I would give up. Maybe if she didn’t say that I might actually give up. But because of her, every time I even think about giving up I just think about the responsibility I have to you. You deserve the best and we’re going to make sure you get there. I always told myself that by your 5th birthday we’d be in a position to do bigger and better things. I don’t plan to let you down. I believe in you, just as much as I believe in myself. There is a lot more for us to accomplish, and I look forward to every minute of it. One day we’ll really smile. Just me and my baby, more commonly known as Parlé.

My "Friends"

2008-09-02T22:18:00.003-04:00

Anyone who knows me can vouch that I’m one of those people who takes friendship rather seriously. If you make it into my circle, as large as that may be, you are sure to get the best I have to offer. From sitting up at the wee hours of the morning discussing personally problems, to making the trip to the emergency room because your stomach don’t feel right. If something goes down at 3am and you need an ear to vent, I’m listening. Or if you get caught up in some beef and you need some extra muscle, I’ll bring the bats, best believe I got your back. To me , that’s a true friend. For some reason or another the word has lost its meaning over the years. People don’t respect the power behind the word like they used to. They’ll claim to ride for you, but their actions will show different. Some people just really don’t know what the word means, bless their heart, but I figure someone needs to teach them.

The last thing I need in this world is an acquaintance. When someone uses the word acquaintance it usually has a degrading tone to it: “he is not my friend, he’s just an acquaintance.” As far as I’m concerned, if you consider me an acquaintance, I don’t mean a thing to you. That means I’m expendable. If that’s the case I don’t even want to be around you.

One misconception people have sometimes is that because they work with someone they can’t be friends. That’s the biggest load of bull I’ve ever heard. If you work with me, for me, are part of my team, than you better be a friend of mine. Either you’re a rider or you’re not. If I can’t expect you to hold me down as a friend, than you can’t even begin to hold me down on a business level (of course this is slightly different for me because I run my own company, we’re not just employees at McDonalds or something). If I’m just a means to an end for you than something is terribly wrong. I mean seriously! Why would I want to put you on, help you eat, if I can’t even trust you to hold me down. I can’t even break it down any further…some things are just easy to get.

A wise woman told me, that every relationship you maintain in life, you do it because it benefits you in some way. At first I couldn’t see the truth in her words, but I eventually got it. And everyone in my life I know they are there because they can benefit from me in one-way or another (and I from them). I appreciate that. However I also learned that one of the most important tasks in my life is to find out who your true friends are, at least before they backfire on you. Some of those benefits they receive are positive for both of us, and for others it is based on a conniving state of mind. I know the difference though. For those people who have been there to hold me down. Whenever I needed, I’m grateful. And to those who decide to pick a side whenever it’s convenient, you wont be around much longer.

As for me, I’m still there, 3 am you need me I’m riding. If you need it and I got it, it’s yours, I wont even ask you for it back. You feeling down and you need some words of wisdom, I’ll do my best. If there’s some new money on the streets and you want to be put on, you on the top of my list. Or if you just need to be around someone who from time to time might say some inspirational shit, then I’m right here. Because that’s what I’m here for, and I always hold down, MY FRIENDS.

just to clarify this isn't to "get at" any of my friends or anything like that. I'm not the type to hide how I feel and everyone knows that, if I feel some kind of way about someone in particular I'll let them know.

In that same way of thinking I do want recognize my two closest friends, I've known them the longest and know they are truly always gonna be there whenever I need something. No full names-just A.P. & N.T. Thanks for everything, past present & future.

My Barber

2008-09-02T22:16:00.002-04:00

The just found out the other day that the man I’d trusted to cut my hair since I was 10 (quite possibly even younger) lost one the game once again. Now I’m not going to sit here and act like me and my barber are the closest people in the world, but he’s the man that I’ve allowed to keep me right, and up hold my looks the past few years, because every man knows, it all starts with the cut. For that man to lose the way he did, when he did, just breaks my heart.

As I said, I’ve been going to my barbershop since elementary school picture day (you know every year your parents paid top dollar to capture you at one of life’s worse moments.). my father told him what to do the first time he cut my hair and from that point on all I had to do when I walked in was say “same thing.” When I grew facial hair, he knew just what to do. There were 2 barbers in the shop, sometimes 3, but if for some reason my barber wasn’t there I’d go home. When I moved to Canarsie more than an hour away from the shop, I still traveled all the way there just so I could say “same thing.” Now I’ll never be able to do that again.

When I was younger, the barbershop was exactly as it seems on television, everyone talking about politics, sex, and things of that sort. Most of the men in there were in their late 30’s, early 40’s. For the most part, they believed in the good of the world. They believed there was more to life than struggle. They were happy.

As I grew older, things began to change. Politics became a topic that bred anger (I didn’t mention this is a Haitian owned barbershop so they have much bigger problems than Bush). Sex wasn’t really the topic of conversation anymore, instead it was how little sex they were having and how amazing Viagra was. There was almost an eerie feeling when I started to go to the barbershop. These men were old, they’d seen some of the worst life had to offer and it wasn’t pretty. Life had taken its toll on these men, mentally and physically.

Someone got him by a car one day. He ended up in the hospital for weeks. When he came out it took him half an hour to walk from one side of the ship to the other. From what I understand from the story, this wasn’t a reckless driver who hit the poor man, in fact the car might have even been parked. The owner of the shop ended losing a whole lot of weight and ended up in the hospital himself. When he came out he had a heart monitor strapped to his chest. He got old and wrinkly almost overnight. The worst thing was that everyone in the shop turned to lotto. For some reason there was a gambling spot right in the basement, it was always there but as people get older, their urge to gamble gets stronger. These people spent hundred of dollars a month on this HOPE that they might get rich, and the money could help them find something that eluded them their entire life…happiness.

If you don’t know anything lotto, there is the mid day drawing and the night time drawing. Three numbers then 4 numbers. The thing is the more money you spend, the more you could potentially win. So in most cases you spend about $10 on each drawing. These people dreamed numbers, they prayed for numbers, everything was about numbers because maybe just maybe they’d win big one day. I guess they never added up how much they spent, a month or even a week. They probably weren’t winning but they were definitely losing BIG.

Every time I went there the cycle was the same. Someone had either just died, or came out the hospital and the numbers had just come out and every one was a loser. I don’t know about you but I like to see good guys win, or at least be happy. I just wanted to go in there one day and see him celebrating, lotto, shit or even a birthday. But contrary to popular belief, the good guy doesn’t always win. I found out just the other day that my barber passed. I’m not sure but I hear his prostate got to him. He lost the game like many others do, but no matter what, he’ll forever remain, my barber.

My Mistake (update)

2008-09-02T22:14:00.004-04:00

After speaking to the woman that inspired the previous post a couple more times, I actually found out that she also recently found out that she has a rare disease . It's called Gitelman's Syndrome. Kind of weird I think.

My Mistake

2008-08-30T17:33:00.001-04:00

Maybe its because the question makes for such a great ice breaker or possibly it’s because people expect me to give an answer that is business related, either way I am often asked about my regrets and mistakes in life. The question can be difficult to answer for me because truly I have several regrets in life. I wish I would’ve ate less junk food in junior high school, I wish I never got that credit card, I wish I would’ve finished up that English minor before I graduated from college. That’s the thing about most of my so-called regrets though, I can easily forgive myself for them. So what I gained some extra weight back in the day, I was still in great shape and now I’ve lost it all anyway. And who cares if my credit is all messed up now. It was bound to happen anyway, I just choose to expedite the process. Point is, I don’t have many regrets I can’t live with or just move beyond. In fact, I only have one mistake I’ll never be able to take back...

It was freshman year of college, 2003 going into 2004. I was just 16 when the school year started. College made me feel so young back then, considering everyone else I talked to had at least a couple of years on me. I was in a relationship with a person I guess you would call my high school sweetheart. We got together senior year, she of course had a couple years on me because I was so young. We made it through the end of high school without a hitch. We even handled the beginning of freshman year well, considering we were going to two different schools, with 2 different jobs. Still, it was pretty easy because we were both in the city. Don’t get me wrong, we had our share of problems, small ones though, nothing unusual for a couple that had been together over a year. But sometime towards the end of freshman year, I began stirring up issues in the relationship. By now I was 17, and I was doing way too much thinking for my own good. The way I saw it I just couldn’t be in this relationship any longer. My logic: things were going too well. We were going on a year and a half at that time (back then that was a long time) and we were pretty much problem free. Our biggest issue was religion, she was a born again Christian, I was a Catholic drop out. It was something we butted heads on often, but I was willing to compromise. And that lead to the problems. at least the ones in my head. The way I saw it, we were on a smooth ride to marriage. By 20, I’d have a degree, we’d be married, we’d have to get a house and we’d probably be working on a family. That’s how it played out in my head at least. Fact is, I was 17, I wasn’t ready to put me to the side and focus on us. I’d only been in one semi-serious relationship before her so how was I even sure that’s what I wanted. I mean was that even really love or did I just think it was because I had nothing else to compare it to. I was going through it but I knew I had to get out the relationship. I made excuses, “it’s not you, its me.” She tried to change my mind, but I was as stubborn then as I am now.

The last day I left her house, there was a slight tear rolling down my cheek (I know for her there wasn’t a dry pillow on her bed) and even though I was sad, when I hit the block I just wanted to run like one of those soccer players, fall to my knees and celebrate like I’d just made the tie-breaking goal. I was free. Free to date other women, free from the thoughts of marriage, free to be all about me.

In my head it made a lot of sense. We’d take a break, I’d date other people, see the world and she’d wait around for me to come back. I mean isn’t that what’s supposed to happen? I don’t even quite remember how things immediately turned out, but needless to say it didn’t quite go as planned. Some of her friends weren’t too fond of me either, so sitting around and waiting for me wasn’t even an option and they made sure of it. She’s in a happy relationship now, been 3 or 4 years now, it’s not like I’m keeping count for them. Actually went to high school with the guy too, isn’t it funny how things work out. We don’t really talk anymore, she’s living her life, she lets me do the same. Our time has come and gone, even that post break-up gap where there’s still potential…we’re just past that. It was love though, no doubt about that.

She called me last night, after months of not speaking, because she found out I was “sick”. Ironically, it was the friend that hooked her up with her new man that was kind enough to deliver the message. Not how I would want her to find out, but I had no choice in the matter.

Talking to her was odd, especially since it had been so long since we last spoke-not to mention the friend and man were in the background. It got me to thinking about the choice I’d made what feels like so many years ago now. It’s not a mistake because we broke up or because I was scared of a long term commitment. It’s my mistake because I didn’t give us a real chance. I was so focused on so many things that weren’t important that I didn’t take time out to realize what was…

The beauty of most regrets is that you have a chance to go back and make up for it. It’s too late for me to do that. But those decisions still come and go for me. If ever comes a decision you have to make where you can’t go back and change your mind, than you better think long and hard before you do something you might have to regret. As for me, I’ll just have to live with my mistake.

My Support System (my crutch)

2008-08-26T01:24:00.003-04:00

For the past 4 years, arguably the most important years of my life, I’ve had a crutch. People usually need the support of crutches after they injured their leg(s) and need the help walking. I on the other hand was lucky enough to have a crutch without having to go through the pain of injury.

Life is a lot easier when you have someone who is there supporting you every step of the way. Things will go wrong, as they often do, but knowing there will be that person cheering for you no matter what life throws at you, can make every wrong fade away real fast. You want to work harder when your hits and misses affect more than just yourself. So it was always easy to put 100% of myself into anything knowing my support system would get a win with me. For four years my support system acted as my crutch, making sure I never missed a step. Making sure I was prepared for every upcoming hurdle, and keeping me motivated so I could continue running the race. My crutch did everything possible, oftentimes going beyond the expected, to keep me going. I guess the one thing my support system couldn’t do was keep me healthy and I don’t know who that hurt more, my support system or me. My crutch made me feel invincible, like nothing else in the world mattered, but eventually the world got to me, through illness and business. And eventually my support system realized I was but a mere man in need of a crutch. When you’ve been there to support someone for so long, you know when they’re down for the count. You know when the world has given them too much to bear. You know that what they’ve worked for the hardest is destined to be a fruitless commitment. Sometimes you just have to be the one to admit it and break free from the one you support, until they to are willing to admit it.

I never needed a support system before mine came a long, and I didn’t know I needed it when I had it, but of course I did—need it that is. I did realize how important it was to have a crutch once it was there because without it I would’ve fell a long time ago. I’m thankful my crutch got me this far. Now broken and battered I still have the will to move forward, for myself and almost as importantly for my support system. Though my crutch has gone off to take the time to support the one most in need, my journey continues, my crutch not physically present but still I carry the memory around. The goals, the dreams, the wishes. She will forever be part of the journey, whether or not she returns to walk the rest of the way with me.

Blogging Is For Idiots

2008-08-23T00:39:00.001-04:00

People have been telling me for months that I should create a blog for myself. A good idea, but one of the first things you should know about me is that I hate blogs, or at least the idea of what a blog has come to mean. Some people are quick to jump on a trend because it’s something to do, but I’m sure that was never the intention of a blog. If you can’t write or have nothing worth sharing, then you shouldn’t be doing a blog. If you are doing it because you are trying to become famous or get paid then shoot yourself!! Same goes for all those hip-hop websites that aren’t about a damn thing.

I started this because I have something to say and I just happen to be a talented writer. Hopefully I can say something that can be of some inspiration to those who read it. If you take anything from this, my mission is accomplished.

My Island

2008-08-23T00:32:00.004-04:00

When your bare hands run over your stomach, it’s probably to guage whether you’ve eaten too much at dinner. The movement is so subtle you barely recognize you’ve done it unless of course you have eaten too much and it hurts. Women at times are different, a stomach rub might actually represent the magical inner workings that with age become common place. When I run my bare hands over my stomach these days, its not food related, instead it’s actually a reminder of months of changes and a future of uncertainty. But I run my hands over my stomach anyway, and I do it as often as possible.

My right side is normal, a slight pudge for my now 135 pound frame. No sign of muscle, or food, just good old flesh and if I keep gliding up-bone from my now visible rib cage. Still this side is the closest thing I have to normal. Quickly slide to the left and its as completely opposite as you can get. It feels like muscle, or at least what I’d imagine abs would feel like. It’s like an island lies in the middle of my stomach, from my pelvic area all the way up to my ribs. If I continue to slide left or right, I will eventually run out of island but my hands don’t just allow myself to run out of land. I trace along the sides, it was once smooth but now its developed its ups and downs, bumpy like a city street. Even my naval feels displaced, one of the many things forced to make changes now that this is here.

See, I have a blood disorder, one so rare that even doctors aren’t familiar with it. According to statistics only 2 to 5 thousand people have it. To put it into perspective I went to high school with almost 3 thousand people so I know there can’t be many of us. Symptoms vary so it’s hard to determine if you have the disorder. Plus the symptoms are signs of so many other diseases and disorders that this is likely one of the last things they’ll think you have. One of my symptoms/effects is an enlarged spleen, or that island I was referring to.

The spleen which is normally protected by your ribcage, and about the size of a fist gradually became larger. When I began to feel it, it was very weird—though medical interns and doctors alike were very excited to feel the normally hidden organ. When it began to take over half my stomach it started to get scary. The spleen has a lot of uses to the body, but its easily damaged when exposed. It holds a lot of cells too so if it gets ruptured there would be a lot of bleeding—internally. I can’t tell you what that would be like, but as you will come to find out I got a pretty good imagination.

After months of feeling this island grow inside me, the pills have finally arrived that are supposed to make this disorder manageable. Thirty orange pills. My monthly fix if you will. First thing I did was lay on my back and trace my hands along my stomach. I did it when the package arrived and then right after I popped a pill. Not because I expected to feel immediate results or anything, but because this island represents so much more than my spleen to me. It represents the last 8 months, the journeys I’ve been faced with since I’ve turned 21. Every time I trace my hands along my stomach I’ll remember my new state of being, the new life I will forever have to become accustomed to. So whether or not my island is there, when I run my fingers I always expect to feel it, and I will always remember it.

-Kevin Benoit

Here is some more info about my disorder. It's called hypereosynophilic syndrome or HES. Check out the video if you care to find out more info.