What Am I Going To Do With Richard Simmons?

I never know what is in my head.
I think I do but I don't.
Probably not much different than you.
I'm driving to work a couple of days ago listening to NPR, and they do a feature on Richard Simmons. I almost changed the station. Actually I almost shut the damn radio off because there are no options.
I don't even try to find good music on the radio anymore because it has become so corporatized. There are approximately 60 trillion great songs from "my era" that are ripe for the plucking, but classic rock radio chooses to play the same fifteen songs over and over and over again.
This is because some corporate a**hole has done the research and has determined that these songs strike a chord with their targeted demographic.
What?
I thought we were talking about music. Emotion, response, memories, reaction.
I miss the days when DJ's did what ever the hell they wanted to. Playing the entire first side of an album or going off on a tangent suggested by the music that had them mixing jazz with classical with rock with poetry.
That was radio.
I listen to NPR in a vain attempt to keep my brain flexible and to try to stay informed and to have some company on the days when I need it.
Richard Simmons drives me nuts. Those shorts have to go, the glittery shirts, the over the top enthusiasm, the high pitched voice.
Have you ever seen him on Letterman? I want to slap him and I think Letterman does too.
Simmons saved up a year and a half worth of tips while working as a waiter to open his first aerobics studio in 1974 in Beverly Hills. The focus of the story was that even after all this time and all this success, whenever he is in town he still leads the classes himself in that very same studio. For $12. It has become a cult experience.
An NPR reporter participated in a class. He described Simmons' pep talks as "part AA, part church testimony service." Simmons himself describes it as a Broadway show.
He chants, he sings, he jokes, anything to keep the mood light and keep his people motivated.
When I first heard his voice inspiring the class I cringed. But I listened and learned.
He cares about these people. He cares about their emotions. The self consciousness, the sadness that comes with being overweight and failing every attempt to shape up.
The way he talked to them blew me away. He gave them hope. He made them laugh. He made them feel good. The sensitivity in his voice was not contrived. It was real and it got to me.
As he was interviewed in the empty studio after class, he softly wept as he talked about what this all means to him. He takes it so seriously that he said he actually cries more than he laughs.
I tell myself that I am an open minded guy. I continually prove myself wrong.
Once again I judged a person on superficial criteria. I am drawn to weirdness, I worship it, but apparently I am selective about it.
I believe Richard Simmons is sincere and I believe he brings empathy and caring into a lot of lives. Lives that need it desperately.
That is a rare and precious beauty in this cold world.
I'll tell you right now if I am ever in Beverly Hills when Richard is, I will shell out the $12. And hope that he singles me out during the class for mock ridicule. Because I know he will make me laugh and force me to not take myself so damn seriously.
According to NPR, Richard Simmons' message for his entire career has been "work hard, take care of yourself, and you'll be just fine."
That is a simple message. What makes it powerful is his sincerity. His caring.
Another lesson learned, baby.