Sid Stein Vs. The State Police - A Classic Sid Stein Tale

A Classic Sid Stein Karaoke tale before the DJ years

Although I am not exactly proud of the circumstances which led to my confrontation with the New York State Police (the actual confrontation was quite exhilarating), and just as I am not proud of what occurred after, neither will I shy away from sharing this incident. Just be prepared. Have some mercy. Even Sid Stein is susceptible to making mistakes. I had just gone through a divorce, don’t forget. The irony of my present journalistic integrity will soon become apparent to you. The truth of the matter is that a lapse of my personal integrity, impaired as it was by personal frustration and alcohol, fueled this melodrama. I was prepared to apologize to the aggrieved party, but she refused to believe that it actually occurred. Oh well.

Even though I have handled many divorce cases, I was not immune to certain behaviors common to men who suddenly find themselves living alone after many years of marriage. As is typical in most scenarios, the mother retains primary physical custody of the children. My case was no different, especially since my ex remained in the marital residence, our only child still at home was a high school daughter and she naturally wanted to stay with her mother most of the time. They have female issues to share, after all.

One such behavior engaged in by men is diving head first into the dating pool. And why shouldn't we? We suddenly find ourselves living alone. Why not meet some new women?

Soon after I found myself out on my own, I started dating. I like company.

Anyway, I met a nice woman and started seeing her on a regular basis. She was pretty and smart. We got along very well, with a few caveats. One stumbling block was her political orientation. She worked for Republicans. Not just any Republican. She worked for the governor of New York, George Pataki. Ugh! Even though I may be sexually bipartisan, her party affiliation rankled me at times. Most times, however, her long legs helped me forget that she voted for George Bush. (Ed. Note – Since that time, I have learned that Republicans are people too.)

I mentioned that there were a few caveats. Another was that she was very kind-hearted. Normally, this would not be an impediment in a relationship. This woman, however, was so nice that she always felt compelled to help those less socially fortunate than she was. That included her supervisor, Louise. In other words, if something was going on around town, like an outdoor concert, my friend, Elizabeth, would drag Louise along. Louise made atrocious company. She was socially inept and physically unkempt. She laughed at her own jokes but really did not have a sense of humor. In a word, the woman was bizarre. And, as far as I knew, she was still a virgin at age 45. Although I fear sounding like a complete snob (I really am not, at least not completely), Louise once asked a bartender at one of Albany’s most upscale restaurants if he had a chilled cabernet. More likely, she just asked for chilled red wine. As magnanimous as I tried to be, as accommodating to Louise’s plight that I was, there were times I wished I had Elizabeth to myself. Like 99% of the time and especially this particular time. Why did I need to be embarrassed by Louise at my hangout? I didn't want to feel regret for inviting Elizabeth out. I still remember the look the bartender gave me. He was very gracious and suggested an ice cube, but I could tell what he was really thinking. "What the hell is wrong with this woman? Doesn't she know how to drink red wine?"

Elizabeth was a busy person. She worked long hours for the Republican governor. As a result, I didn't see her as often as I would like. Adding Louise into the mix only served to increase my mounting frustration. When I asked her why she always had to drag Louise around, she would explain that even as a child, she always took in strays. Did she have to perform her humanitarian functions on my time?

There was one other minor problem. Even though we generally planned to be together on Thursdays, Elizabeth sometimes canceled because something had come up. And what was that usually? If it had to do with her kids or something like that, it wouldn't have bothered me. Instead, it involved my other pet peeve with her. No matter what impact it may have had on our relationship, Elizabeth always seemed to have time for the many Republican fundraisers which take place here in the capital of New York. I thought she should be spending time with me instead of raising dollars for corrupt public officials. Call me selfish.

As much as I enjoyed her company, my relationship with Elizabeth began to sour. I don’t mean to say anything bad about her. I attribute our problems more to circumstances than anything else. She needed her job more than she needed me. I understood that. She was estranged from a husband who didn't pay child support. She lived in fear of being fired if she didn't tow the party line or attend their functions. Still, I was unhappy with the situation.

It was a Thursday night. Elizabeth called earlier in the day to tell me that she had to go to some mandatory party function. She wouldn't be able to see me. I wasn't happy. I started to seriously reevaluate my relationship with her. Maybe the disappointment wasn't worth it. So I did what I usually do on Thursday nights. I went to Pinto and Hobbs to sing karaoke.

To be perfectly honest, I did more than sing and hang out with my karaoke friends that night. I drank. Ketel One on the rocks with a slice of lemon. I had more than a few. After all, I was feeling a little put out, so to speak. By midnight, I was feeling no pain.

If I was writing a novel, then I would have written that Elizabeth and her large entourage rolled into Pinto and Hobbs right at the stroke of midnight. In reality, it was about five minutes after.

Elizabeth swept in and brushed right by me. She was followed by Louise, two black men and a few female co-workers. I felt as if my sanctuary had been violated. Pinto and Hobbs was not a place frequented by Elizabeth. She came there solely because she knew I would be there. I was at a loss to understand Elizabeth’s motivation for bringing her crew to the P & H. Did she want to show off the fact that she was accompanied not just by Louise, but by two tall, good-looking men? I knew it had something to do with the displeasure I expressed about Louise tagging along everywhere and my disappointment over the fact that we didn't spend much time alone. Thinking back, I may have put my feelings in the form of an ultimatum, as in: "Liz, you have to make a choice. Me or Louise." In other words, I could interpret her decision to descend upon my sweet bar as nothing less than rubbing salt into my perceived wounds. I shot her a dirty look without even saying hello. She just tossed her head back defiantly.

As I assessed the situation, because it was a situation as far as I was concerned, I continued sipping my vodka. I wasn't sure how to react to this post midnight development. As it turned out, I didn't have to do much. Elizabeth walked over to say hello. After exchanging uneasy pleasantries, Elizabeth told me that she had been to some party. Governor Pataki had been there as well. She said something about knowing that I would be at Pinto & Hobbs, but I already knew that. I can be predictable. If I am not at home on a Thursday after midnight, chances are I am at the P & H. And the two men? State Police. They were assigned to the Governor as his body guards. One doubled as a helicopter pilot. I didn't have much to say because I was somewhat nauseated by this police presence at a place I go to in order to escape from the daily grind. Perceiving that I had nothing to say, Elizabeth went back to her friends.

So far, I have omitted one important detail about Elizabeth’s posse. It included a very pretty, busty blonde named Katie. I would place her in the Marilyn Monroe genre. I am not saying she was that beautiful. She was attractive, but only Marilyn Monroe was Marilyn Monroe. Rather, she was a slightly ditzy and very curvy, not quite platinum blonde. She was employed as a secretary in Elizabeth’s office.

Katie is a staunch Republican and was blindly supportive of her boss, the Governor. I found out just how loyal she was to him during the summer of 2006 at an outdoor concert when I made a disparaging remark about how the Governor talks out of the side of this mouth. Although that is usually a metaphor, especially for a politician, Pataki actually talks that way. You should see him. It really looks weird. After the concert, I was admonished by Elizabeth for insulting the Governor. She told me that I had upset Katie. She also volunteered that Katie said I was an asshole. Oh well. She wasn't really my type anyway.

That almost sounds like sour grapes. "She wasn't really my type anyway." Well, things were different this particular Thursday night. Maybe there was a full moon. It might explain my subsequent behavior.

It was my turn to sing. I chose one of the first songs I had ever sung at karaoke. "Walk on the Wild Side" by Lou Reed. I always introduced the song with a nod to Lou Reed as the coolest Jew on the planet. As you might have guessed, I wanted to sing especially well considering the company at the bar. The song went well, but the attitude was dead on.

As I stepped off the stage enjoying the polite applause of the crowd, Katie was standing directly in front of me. She was smiling. She was drunk. She was flirting. I glanced quickly at Elizabeth and flirted back.

To be honest, while I am being honest here, I was caught off-guard by the level of Katie’s show of affection even though it was obvious she was hammered. After all, she did call me an asshole a few months earlier. Could alcohol change a person’s opinion about someone to such a degree? Whether it was the alcohol or a change of attitude, I didn't let her flirting go to my head. I figured she was just drunk. By the same token, I had been drinking quite a bit myself. Maybe it went to my head just a little bit.

Anyone who knows me well knows this about me. I am not one to pick up women at bars. That has never been my style. I was prepared, however, to make an exception in this case because I had been introduced to Katie outside the bar.

You may be thinking, what about Elizabeth? She was watching, of course - intently. I caught her sneering at me. And to continue this stream of honesty pouring out of me, I admit that my primary motivation for flirting with Katie was not sexual. I just wanted to piss off Elizabeth. Shameful, I know. Taking advantage of a human being for a nefarious purpose. I proposed to Katie that we leave. She agreed. Boy, that was easy. Maybe I should rethink my policy about picking up women at bars.

With Katie in tow, I turned toward the door. I didn't bother looking back at Elizabeth. We emerged into the cool, dark night. We were followed.

No, it wasn't Elizabeth coming out to yell at me. In her place, she sent a representative. The Governor’s bodyguard. Oh no, I thought. I’m in trouble.

All kinds of thoughts raced through my mind. I was preparing to cower, but before my face even had time to turn pale, the bodyguard grabbed Katie’s arm and started talking to her, not me. He tried to convince her to go back into the bar. He didn't want her to leave with me. Suddenly, I became indignant. What was wrong with leaving with Sid Stein? I can barely believe what happened next. I really don’t know what came over me. I walked up and faced the trooper. I stared him right in the eye and said: "Don’t interfere!" I used my best command voice. I immediately noticed something in his eyes and came to a startling realization. He can’t touch me! He works for the Governor. The Governor doesn't want any bad publicity. How would that look in the paper? "Governor’s bodyguard beats the crap out of local Jewish lawyer." I became emboldened. I repeated my command: "Don’t interfere!" The trooper didn't know what to say to me. I think he was in as much shock as I was. He continued trying to convince Katie not to leave with me, but I was too determined and she was too drunk. With one more "Don’t interfere," Katie and I were gone.

I don’t see any need to revisit the details of what happened next. I will, however, mention a few things. About three hours after Katie and I left Pinto & Hobbs, her cell phone started ringing. Apparently, someone missed her. Who? No one except her fiancé! Well, my dear readers, you will have to believe me that I really didn't know she was engaged. I can’t say at this moment if it would have mattered to me then, but I really didn't know at the time. The frequent phone calls were a source of consternation for Katie. I could only shake my head. But wait! As the sun came up, Katie asked me to drive her to her car. One problem though. All she knew was that it was downtown somewhere. It would not be an exaggeration to say that we drove around for almost an hour looking for her car. We eventually found it and so ended my night with Katie.

My phone rang the next day. It was Elizabeth. Katie didn't show up for work. Everyone was worried. I assured Elizabeth that Katie was fine, but no, I didn't have any idea why she wasn't answering her phone. Elizabeth shared something else with me. Katie’s co-workers and fiancé weren't the only ones who were worried about her. Her mother-in-law to be was also concerned. In fact, unbeknownst to me, Katie’s future in-law, the mother of her irate fiancé, was at the P & H as a member of Elizabeth’s party. I was stunned. Katie was out with her future mother-in-law and still left with me. That’s incredible. Even for Sid Stein.

I don’t know if Katie ever got married. For her sake, I hope not. I don’t think she was ready. As for Elizabeth, our relationship tailed off. She never believed that I had sex that night. She thought it would be impossible for Katie to ever sleep with me. Katie hated me too much. After all, I am the guy who wrote the book about how to get away with cheating. And, I mocked the Governor. 

The Meanest Thing I've Ever Done At Karaoke Or The Ties That Bind

It should come as no surprise to you that I am a karaoke addict. As far as addictions go, it's not a dangerous one. Nevertheless, karaoke, like anything else in life, often presents its own dilemmas from time to time. How we deal with these issues is part of character building, assuming we have any character to build. As many of you know, my motto is - "better living through karaoke." However, sometimes the path to "better living" takes odd twists and turns. This is one such tale.

As a karaoke DJ, I sometimes work four nights per week. As a result, I have had to sacrifice some nighttime activities I would otherwise pursue. Concerts and plays have been missed. Having learned there are trade-offs in life, I am still happy with my choice to be a DJ. So, when I do have a night off, what do I do? The choice is often karaoke! Call me insane. My kids do!

For the past number of years, I have spent many Sunday nights at a bar in Latham, New York, which has karaoke. Except for the fact that there is karaoke, I really don't remember how I ended up there. It's a wholly different crowd from what I am used to. First of all, I am among the younger customers. I know, hard to believe for many of you. In many ways, I have little in common with them, politically or socially. That being said, they are nice people, and most importantly, nonjudgmental. It took them a while to warm up to my antics, but to their credit, they did. They made me feel welcome and now even look forward to my "different" sense of humor. The food is good pub food, so I go to eat and sing. And relax! I am not the DJ, so I get to chill and wait for my turn in the rotation like everyone else. I think by going there, it helps me to center myself once a week - a different perspective or lens through which to see my life.

Among the other customers, there is a high functioning, developmentally disabled adult who comes to sing. Let's call him Adam. He's about 60 years old. He's a big fan of karaoke. I don't know what his specific problem is, but he likes to be social, to the extent he can be. His social skills are hampered by his condition, yet he has a clear need to be part of a group. He can't drink alcohol, presumably because he is on some type of medication. He has a car and a job. All in all, he does very well for himself and should be admired, except for the fact that he is so fucking annoying.

I am especially sensitive to the developmentally disabled. I have a brother who fell off a cliff in 1981 and who can no longer walk or talk. He resides in a nursing home because he requires a lot of medical care. He understands a lot and can communicate with limited proficiency by signaling yes or no with his one hand that is not paralyzed. Still, it's hard to fully assess his cognitive functioning. He doesn't always respond and it's sometimes hard to know if his answers are trustworthy.  Heavy seizure medication can do that to a person. He knows who everyone is, has discernible moods and loves to give hugs. He is clearly proud to be an uncle to my children and a granduncle to my granddaughter.

When I meet someone as high functioning as Adam, I have mixed emotions. My first impulse is to be sensitive because of everything I have witnessed over the years with my brother's condition. A part of me is jealous - wishing that my brother could be as high functioning. Although my feelings don't translate into actual resentment of someone like Adam, I do think of my brother with a kind of remorse. I also get defensive when people make fun of the "Adams" of our world. It hurts to hear when people call Adam a retard because I wish my brother could be as much of a "retard" as Adam.

Adam, though, is quite annoying. It's not his fault. He can't help himself. As a DJ, I deal with annoying people on a regular basis. I have less sympathy for them than for Adam, but I understand that it's part of the biz and I deal with them the best I can. I have learned to have a lot of patience. If  I didn't, I don't think I could do what I do. However, there is a limit to anyone's patience.

So, you wonder, how annoying is Adam? What exactly does he do to piss me off? It's mostly a lot of little things. If I am there with a date, he waits until it's my turn to sing, then hits on my date. Since I am usually the only one there with a date, I do feel slightly singled out. Adam, however, is not an actual threat, just annoying, like a mosquito. My dates are able to laugh off his advances but also tell me that he talks trash about me. One woman related that Adam told her that I have been to the bar with a lot of women before her. Who does that? At first, it was good for a laugh, but over time, how many mosquito bites can one person tolerate? Once, I walked by him and heard him mutter under his breath - Sid the Squid. I thought that was pretty funny too, even though I am sure he meant it as a diss. After a while, Adam's behavior changed. While I was singing, he would walk by and bump into me, pretending he wasn't doing it on purpose, but he clearly was. I never said anything, but it was getting to be a hassle of sorts. I can only speculate why Adam was engaging in this new behavior. Perhaps he was jealous. Perhaps he just couldn't help himself. Nevertheless, his actions were directed at me, not anyone else.

After a while, I felt like I was going to need an "ocean of Calomine lotion" to deal with Adam. I really didn't know what to do with him. All I did know that I was losing my patience. I tried my best, inspired by the other people at the bar who tolerated him with what only can be described as charitable hearts. But was Adam deserving of my charity? He was a pain in the ass and I was the focus of his antics. And even though Adam is developmentally disabled, isn't it better to treat him like a ""normal" person? Should his disability require that I treat him differently from any other pain in the ass? Simply, yes. As much sense as it might make to treat Adam like everyone else; to integrate him into society as much as possible, he has a disability which cannot be ignored. Everyone deserves to be treated with dignity and respect. But what an ass!

Adam clearly has a strong ego. He thinks he's a great singer. He's not. Nor does criticism register. I have tried to encourage him to sing one song rather than another, hoping that positive reinforcement, rather than criticism, would help. It didn't. Asking him to stop bumping into me didn't seem to help either.

One day I had enough. I just couldn't take him anymore. And in that instant, I knew just what to do. Adam was always telling me about local sporting events at which he sang the National Anthem. Why anyone would choose him to sing the "Star Spangled Banner" is beyond me. I narrowed down the reasons to two. Either people felt sorry for him and let him sing, perhaps to promote awareness for the developmentally disabled or Adam paid them (bought multiple tickets for the game?) in exchange for letting him sing. So I said to Adam: "Hey Adam, guess what? They asked me to sing the National Anthem at Yankee Stadium." Adam's head nearly exploded like the "fembots'" in "Austin Powers." Knowing that his favorite team is the Red Sox, I added: "Against the Red Sox!" He asked me when. It was still May, so I picked a date in August out of thin air. How did I know that a schedule of Yankee games hung on a wall in the bar? Adam raced over to it, proudly proclaiming that the Yankees were playing the Orioles that day. I laughed and told him that I was just teasing him about the Red Sox. At least I actually chose a Yankees' home date!

Weeks went by and Adam peppered me with questions about my "gig." How did I get it? Could I introduce him to the person who hooked me up? I kept the charade going through May, June and July. It was driving Adam nuts. I felt a little guilty but it felt better getting Adam to stop bumping into me. It was early August when I ran into Adam quite by accident. He told me that he had bought tickets to the game. "WHAT? Why did you do that?" His reply was perfect Adam. "I want to see you sing the National Anthem." When asked why he just didn't watch it on television, he claimed that they don't always show the National Anthem. Know this, though. He didn't want to see me sing because he was happy for me; he wanted proof that I was actually singing. Now I really felt guilty. I never predicted that he would spend money on my practical joke. I told him that he shouldn't have. What if I get sick? What if it rains? I learned that he had bought tickets through Yankee Trails, a bus/travel company which sells trips to the stadium. I suggested that maybe he could get his money back or switch his tickets to a Red Sox game.

For a week, I was in a quandary. I decided that if he couldn't get his money back or change his ticket, I would give him the money. A joke is a joke, but not when it costs someone money. When I saw him that Sunday, he told me that he was able to switch his ticket to a Red Sox game. He was going to go anyway, so I was relieved. And with the money issue resolved, I felt it was okay to continue my ruse.

The day of my debut at Yankee Stadium came and went. Adam "missed" me on television, so when I saw him at karaoke, I told him it was fantastic. He had a hard time believing it, but I finally convinced him. I felt accomplished in a way.  I told a joke which lasted from May into August! Magnificent. It totally rattled Adam and he left me alone after that.

Time went by and Adam's questions about my performance became fewer and fewer. Karaoke life went on without Adam's intrusions into my space. Yankee Stadium soon became a memory.

One of my favorite movies is "The Aristocrats." Not Disney's "Aristocats," but a documentary about an old joke comedians often share with one another. Some turn the joke into a contest, the winner being the one who can stretch it out the longest. So it came as no surprise to me when I decided to tell Adam that I would be singing the National Anthem at the opening ceremonies of the London Olympics. I wasn't sure that he would believe me because national anthems aren't sung at the Olympics, but he seemed to accept it. After all, I had already performed at Yankee Stadium. He had a lot of questions which I answered to his satisfaction.

Months went by. As the Olympics approached, Adam seemed to be getting more and more jealous. Yes, friends, I had gone over to the dark side of karaoke. Sith Sid returned. I wasn't proud of myself, but I was having fun teasing Adam. I also felt secure knowing that Adam wouldn't be buying a ticket to London. What could be the harm? At some point, he would watch the Olympics and find out that I really wasn't singing.

You can imagine I was quite curious to discover Adam's post-opening ceremonies reaction. When I saw him the following Sunday, he told me that he fell asleep and didn't see me. A stroke of luck! I had "actually" performed at the opening ceremonies of the London Olympics! And although Adam was jealous, his jealousy didn't seem to hurt him in any way. In fact, he renewed his requests for help with getting him his own big gig!

I figured that would be the end of it. The joke had lasted over a year at this point. I had charted a new course at the expense of a developmentally disabled adult. I know. I'm an asshole.

Karaoke went on normally until the winter. Even though karaoke was the primary entertainment, Sunday night football played on the big screens. So, I thought. Why not sing the National Anthem at the biggest sporting event of the year? The Superbowl!

Adam couldn't believe my luck with bookings. The Superbowl?! Holy cow! By the same token, I knew that my joke would finally come to an end. The Superbowl would be on television on karaoke Sunday. I would be there. Adam would be there.

Superbowl Sunday came and Alicia Keys did a fine job with the National Anthem. I told Adam that it was really me dressed up like Alicia Keys and he laughed. I told him it was ridiculous for him ever to have believed that I would be singing the National Anthem at the Superbowl. After all, they only have major celebrities at the event. I learned something though. He still believed I had performed at Yankee Stadium and the Olympics, although his level of skepticism was heightened.

At some point, I decided to go for broke. I was hoping that I could make this joke last over two years. I decided to sing the National Anthem at the World Series. I picked Game 3 in St. Louis because it was during the week and not on a Sunday when I would be at karaoke. Maybe Adam would miss it. He already fell asleep once already trying to watch me.

When I arrived at karaoke that following Sunday, Adam came up to me and asked what happened. He saw the game and knew that I hadn't sung the National Anthem. I admitted the truth simply by saying: "I didn't sing." Before I was able to speak another word, he asked: "Did you get there and they wouldn't let you sing? That happened to me once at a game. I got there and they told me I wasn't good enough to sing." My heart broke. Adam was empathizing with me. I told him that's exactly what happened.

It was an opportunity. After more than two years of my "joke," I finally found a way out of it. It was a two year journey ending in humility. As intellectually disparate Adam and I are, we bonded in disappointment. Both of us had been "humiliated" at a sporting event. Sure, my disappointment was only virtual, but Adam didn't need to know that. We now had something significant in common. He felt badly for me.

I learned a great and sweet lesson that night. As different as two people might be, they can still share feelings. Empathy is possible. It's more than that though. Adam and I are both karaoke addicts. We both love to sing. We will have that in common forever. So Nation, look for the ties that bind and not for the things that make us different. Adam and I are friends now. A happy ending. Whether you seek better living through karaoke or some other medium, it is out there to find.