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.
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