I recently saw a headline that reminded me of the importance of stories and how ownership of one's stories is an incredibly powerful thing. This Sunday Story is all about authenticity, ownership of stories, and that time I got married in Vegas and met Richard Simmons. The headline that caught my eye was this from The Guardian: “Richard Simmons Disavows Biopic: ‘I have never given my permission for this movie’”.
For those out of the loop (as I was, until I saw this headline), the short version is that someone has chosen to make a film about Richard Simmon’s life. Richard Simmons is a famous fitness guru. His boundless energy and effusive personality made him a staple of classic at-home workouts, and he has had a decades-long career in the spotlight as a health and wellness “influencer” long before that ever really became a thing. Richard Simmons has helped countless people live a better life, and has a personal touch with his fans and those he meets that is truly special. His reputation is hard earned from his lifelong work and passion for health and wellbeing, but it’s also truly well deserved because he is incredibly genuine and authentic - at least, he was when I met him.
It was early March of 2013, and Teryn and I had just spent the most amazing week of our lives (so far!) in Las Vegas, Nevada with 50 of our closest friends and family to celebrate our wedding. We decided on Las Vegas for a few reasons, but that’s for another story. This story takes place on the return trip as we were passing through the airport in Calgary, Alberta. We were there with two close friends - Kyle and Angie - and ahead of us in line was the one and only Richard Simmons.
You couldn’t mistake him for anyone else. He was the exact same in that customs and immigration lineup as he was on TV - he was wearing shorts and a tank top (with a coat over top), and his boundless energy was contagious. He was warm, kind, and engaging with all of us on a very human level. As travellers do when waiting for the machinations of the airport to do their thing, Richard asked us where we were coming from. “Las Vegas” I replied, and his face lit up with a bright smile.
“We got married!” My new wife said excitedly, and the bright smile became an awkward frown.
“But it was planned - like, people came to it and there was invitations. Not spur of the moment” I jumped in, and the warm smile returned.
“Oh thank GOD" he said, "I was incredibly worried for you for a moment there but that's fabulous!!" he exclaimed, and his joy was genuine. He asked us about the wedding and we indicated that our friends were there. He asked about plans for a honeymoon, and his excitement was contagious. He shared that he was in town for a fitness convention, and we had a nice conversation.
Here’s another example of Richard's way of being from that interaction; it was his turn at the customs desk and soon his energy and humour had everyone laughing. The Customs Officer said “Good day sir, welcome to Calgary, travelling for business or pleasure?”, and Richard without hesitation said loudly, in almost a sing-song manner “If it can’t be both it’s not a business I want to be in!”
The energy was contagious - the Officer was smiling, which isn’t something they’re known to do, and the people in line were chuckling. But of course the custom officer had work to do and so he continued his process asking “Have you got anything to declare? Just the one bag?”
Without skipping a beat, Richard replied “Look you know who I am and you’ve seen the size of my shorts, you really think I need to pack a lot? Yes just this one bag, nothing to declare”. His friendliness (with a touch of sass) was coming through in the way he said it, and he had us all in stitches.
You couldn’t avoid being in a good mood with the energy that Richard brought as he did something as mundane as going through customs at the airport. It left an impression on me that I still remember fondly and clearly over a decade later.
When I saw the Guardian article headline, I was sad. Richard is a guy with a story worth telling - but stories are deeply personal. The stories I shared here are my stories of interacting with Richard Simmons. Our stories (if we choose to tell them) are a window into our lives via amusing anecdote, like these ones. Some stories however show us at our most vulnerable. Stories are often all that remain of us once we’ve passed through this life. They precede us via things like our professional reputation, and they help those around us understand who we are as humans. They are deeply precious, and we should all have agency in how they are told. It seems like Richard Simmons is being robbed of that agency with this biopic, and that's too bad.
Stories are one of the reasons Restorative Justice is so powerful. When you hear a person’s story, you aren’t just hearing a retelling of facts - you are hearing their experience. Something happens in us on a deep human level when we sit across from someone telling us an authentic story. It connects people, and will in many cases soften even the most tense conflicts to the point where resolution is not only possible but preferred by those involved.
But it starts with stories, and stories are incredibly special, inspiring, and fundamentally human - just like Richard Simmons, actually. We know how this part of Hollywood works - this biopic is going to happen whether it has Richard’s approval or not, so hoping that he will regain his agency over his stories is probably too much to ask. But I am at least hopeful that the actors and directors involved in this biopic treat Richard Simmons’s story with the respect and care that it deserves.
Thanks for reading, and we’ll see you next Sunday.
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