December 2017

PROFILE
Sarge
at arms
by Aaron Krause
An area man who took drugs,
downed alcohol, and spent a
year homeless had the chance to
start a new life.
Not only has the man, who goes by
the name of “Sarge,” successfully
accomplished that, he’s helping
addicts today to begin life anew. He’s
doing it one punch line, one comical
statement or self-deprecating remark at
a time.
Sarge, whose birth name is Steven
Charles Pickman, is a film, television, and
stage entertainer who has performed
worldwide. A football coach once called
him Sarge and the name stuck.
His booking manager, Eric Schwager,
describes him as “the only entertainer in
the country working at treatment centers
and helping young people overcome their
addiction.”
Sarge said he uses humor during his
sessions with addicts because “they
respond to entertainment.” Rather than
coming across as an authority figure or
a lecturer, Sarge holds group sessions in
a lighthearted, relaxed atmosphere. He
said he tries to come across as a trusted
friend while inducing laughter.
“I make fun of myself,” he said,
adding he is able “to take the
darkest circumstances and turn
them into laughter.”
No topic is too dark or grave for a comic
approach — even suicide.
Apparently, the approach works for
Sarge and those listening to him. Addicts
“eagerly anticipate” his comic-therapy
sessions each week, he added.
He was born in Miami Beach during
the Civil Rights movement to a Jewish
mother and black father.
“Beige lives matter,” Sarge said, jokingly
referring to his skin color. Sarge’s book
Black Boychik is the “hilarious, true story
of a fat, mixed-race, Jew crack addict
who somehow becomes a comedian. Go
figure,” reads a description on the front
cover.
Sarge’s biological parents gave him up
for adoption. A New York couple brought
him up and raised him Jewish. Internal
confusion about Sarge’s identity led to a
life of gambling, drugs, and alcohol. The
addictions became so severe that at one
point, Sarge was living with a “$300-aday
habit.” He stole anything, just as long
as he could remain high.
One day, Sarge robbed a friend’s New
York City home — a dwelling where he
briefly lived during the Fall of 1990. Sarge,
now 56, pawned the furnishings in New
York’s jewelry district for money to buy
crack cocaine, angel dust, and bourbon.
His friend’s initial reaction, as Sarge
recalls it: “Let’s get you some help.”
Twenty-four hours later, Sarge found
himself at a treatment center in Delray
Beach. A therapist invited him into a
room and gave him instructions: “hit
your knees” and ask God to remove the
obsession to drink and take drugs. The
next day, he awoke with “absolutely no
desire to take drugs or down alcohol.”
“Some people will say it’s the power of
prayer,” Sarge said. “I believe it was the
gift of compliance. I took direction.”
By the end of 2017, he will mark his
27th year of being clean — a stretch of
“continuous sobriety,” in Sarge’s words.
Recently, as he spoke during an
in-person interview, he leaned toward
this writer and spoke in a soft voice
filled with sincerity. His wide brown eyes
gleamed and he smiled. “I was given the
opportunity to pick my new life,” he said.
He’d demonstrated a capacity for
performing at a young age. He
discovered he could play piano by ear
at age 6. His life-long dream was to be
a comedian after witnessing comic Don
Rickles. He sought out open-mic nights
at bars and his dream turned into reality.
Today, he performs at 150 events a
year, showcasing his comic skills on
television, at speaking engagements, and
in straight-up comedy shows. There’s a
“rapid fire quality” to his comedy, he said.
“I bring who I really am to the
stage,” he said, adding all his
acts are spontaneous. “I know
who I am. Most people don’t
know who they are.”
Who is Sarge? He is “a person who’s
grateful for each moment” of his
existence, he said. “I’m not supposed
to be here,” Sarge said, referring to
being alive. “I got 27 years that I wasn’t
supposed to get. I’m the rat that didn’t
die from poison.” P
For show information, log onto
www.iamsarge.com.
Sarge performs with
music and laughter.
64
DECEMBER 2017