Richard Simmons, No Child Left Behind, and Me

Via the NEA's anti-NCLB blog, we learn that Richard Simmons wants phys-ed to be included as a "multiple measure" in the reauthorized version of NCLB. Really! He even went on Letterman (Remember Letterman? Those were the days. The '80s, to be specific) to promote the plan. This is good news--not in an education policy sense, of course, but because it gives me a reason to tell my Richard Simmons story.

The year: 1993. The setting: Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Having graduated from college the previous spring, I'm taking a year off before starting grad school. Not for any good reason, mind you, I just forgot to sign up for the GRE in time to apply for the '92-'93 school year. I've got 12 months to expand my personal, cultural, an intellectual horizons before heading back to academia, but my first priority is to find a place to live, since my room in the fraternity house is spoken for. I consider moving home, but my Dad starts throwing ugly words like "rent" into the conversation. My friend Jon had just finished up at UNC-Chapel Hill, and suggests I move there for the year, on the grounds that (A) the weather is great, and (B) the social life is even better. Unable to refute this air-tight logic, I pack up everything I own, which takes up roughly 40 percent of the space in my Honda Civic hatchback, and drive south. We move into a two-bedroom apartment in a complex on the outskirts of town where the police have established a sub-station to save time and fuel expenses and the rent is $200 a month, total. We get jobs as waiters at a chain barbecue restaurant, where we work two lunches a week and Friday and Saturday nights from 6PM to midnight. The rest of the time is spent playing pickup basketball and Sega Genesis, as well as availing ourselves of the afore-mentioned social life. I become a devoted, life-long Tar Heels fan for the entirety of the 1992-93 basketball season. Life is sweet.

When we're awake in the morning, we listen to Howard Stern. I know, I know. This was, I must emphasize, Stern in his prime, before he got tired and copied and his moment as King of All Media came and went. He had a kind of rude greatness back then. Richard Simmons was a frequent guest, and he was always hilarious. One day I'm reading the sports page and I see an advertisement for some kind of Richard Simmons event, where he will be live in person at the local mall. Since my schedule is clear for, roughly, the next 175 consecutive days, we hop in the Civic and rush to meet the great man in person. Sure enough, it's a huge event in the mall atrium, with a line of people circling the fountain under the skylight with the fake plants (you know the one I'm talking about). Someone is handing out these little laminated wallet-sized cards with Richard's list of ten personal affirmations printed on both sides. They read like a verbatim transcript of future Minnesota Senator Al Franken's Stuart Smalley's "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and people like me" SNL sketch. We begin laughing uncontrollably. Again, let me remind you of the year and suggest that this sort of obnoxious behavior had not yet been definitively branded as the oh-so-typically-Gen-X conceit it surely was.

Suddenly, ringing out across the Mall atrium, we hear, in that unmistakable Simmons whine, a piercing cry: "You!"

We stop. Who, us?

"Yes, you. Come over here. Come here."

Richard is yelling at us! In the mall! It may be the greatest thing ever! We rush across the atrium, dodging various Simmons devotees as we go.

"Richard!" we say. Not sure what to say next. It's Richard Simmons!

"I saw you making fun of the personal affirmations. Tch! You should be ashamed!"

"Richard! We listen to you on Howard Stern all the time!"

"Oh! I don't know why I go back there. He's so mean. Isn't he mean?"

"Richard! You're awesome!"

"Thank you. But you you shouldn't make fun..."

And that was about it, as the people in line behind us were starting to get restless. Up to that point (heck, maybe still) my closest brush with greatness. Richard didn't stop going on Howard Stern, of course, or Letterman, or trying to make people feel better about themselves and be healthy at the same time. It's 14 years later, his NCLB proposal is silly, and we probably won't meet again. But I'm glad I met him then, I'm glad he's still doing his Richard Simmons thing now.