Richard Simmons, renowned for inspiring overweight individuals to get active and adopt healthier eating habits, passed away on Saturday.
Simmons, famous for his vibrant tank tops and short shorts, brought boundless energy to television as the lively court jester of physical fitness. He turned 76 on Friday.
According to an email from Richard Simmons’ publicist Tom Estey to The Associated Press, the fitness guru passed away at his Los Angeles home. “We lost an Angel today – a true Angel,” Estey said.
A spokesperson for the Los Angeles Police Department confirmed that officers responded to a 911 call from Richard Simmons’ home on Belfast Drive and arrived at 9:57 a.m. on Saturday.
“Upon arrival, one rescue ambulance discovered a 76-year-old male who was pronounced deceased on-scene by firefighter/paramedics due to apparent natural causes.
“As a result, no hospital transport was necessary,” LAFD Captain Erik Scott said.
Just two days before his passing, Richard contemplated his aspirations for his legacy.
“I never thought of myself as a celebrity. People don’t know this – I’m really a shy person and a little bit of an introvert,” he told People.
“But when that curtain goes up that’s a different story. I’m there to make people happy.
“But the accolades I get from emails. I mean, today most probably, we’ll answer over 100 emails.
“And they’ll say, ‘I’m your No1 fan’, and I just write back, and I say, you know, ‘Don’t say that because I’m a human being just like you. And I know that you do good things, too.’”
Simmons’ brother, Lenny Simmons, confirmed the death in a statement.
“I don’t want people to be sad about my brother,” Lenny Simmons said. “I want them to remember him for the genuine joy and love he brought to people’s lives.”
“We are in shock,” Lenny added. “Please respect the family at this difficult time.”Tom Estey, Simmons’ longtime publicist, said in a statement, “Today the World lost an Angel.”
A day before his sudden passing, Simmons celebrated his 76th birthday and took to the social media to thank everyone for the birthday wishes.
“Thank you…I never got so many messages about my birthday in my life!” Simmons wrote. “I am sitting here writing emails. Have a most beautiful rest of your Friday.”
He signed the post “Love, Richard.”
Simmons, who grew up in New Orleans, battled weight issues from a young age, tipping the scales at nearly 200 pounds by age 15. By the time he graduated from high school, he weighed 268 pounds, as documented on his website.
From 1980 to 1984, he hosted the Richard Simmons Show that focused on personal health and fitness.
He also gained fame through his aerobic exercise videos, such as 1988’s Sweatin’ to the Oldies and its sequels in 1990 and 1991.
Simmons expanded his early success with frequent appearances on various TV shows, ranging from The Tonight Show starring Johnny Carson to game shows like Match Game and The New Hollywood Squares. He became a staple of late-night television during the ’90s and 2000s, appearing on shows hosted by Jay Leno and David Letterman.
Throughout the years, Simmons sold millions of workout videos. He owned a Beverly Hills exercise studio and restaurant frequented by celebrities like Barbra Streisand and Paul Newman.
Following his recent withdrawal from public life, during which he disclosed a skin illness in March 2024, speculation about Simmons’ health and well-being had circulated. His death was initially reported by TMZ.
We are so very sorry for this loss. May he rest in peace.
Following his purchase of a dinner for over $600 I blocked him but it turned out he was trying to warn me
Penelope’s evening seems to be getting more complicated by the minute, but then a simple dinner with David turns into a journey of shocking discoveries that challenge everything she has ever believed to be true about her family and herself. A dinner party that seemed to be going well suddenly becomes a platform for startling revelations that could change her life forever.Have you ever gone on an awful date? Indeed, I concur. This one started off really well, but let’s just say the conclusion went in a direction I wasn’t expecting. So it all began one seemingly ordinary day in the public library.
I got to know David in this way. With his teacherly charm, he started a conversation by asking me about my favorite literature. Before I knew it, we were deep in discussion on everything from classic literature to modern science fiction. It was nice to meet someone who could follow my meandering thoughts.
During our talk, David unexpectedly invited me out—not for a date, but for dinner. “Which restaurant is your favorite?” he said. I remember giggling softly, taken aback by his openness.
I responded, “My favorite place is a bit much for a first date,” but I eventually told him about it. I reserve this lovely spot for indulging in self-indulgence or celebrating personal successes. After all, you don’t typically spend $600 on dinner.
However, I wanted our first meeting to be casual, so I suggested a trendy Mexican eatery that was roughly halfway between us. I winked and added, “They have over 300 tequilas and tacos with handmade tortillas that are to die for.” It’s also quite reasonably priced.
David listened intently, but he was certain about choosing the spot. I appreciated his initiative as much as I wanted those amazing tacos. Compromise is necessary in big cities with awful traffic, especially if you live on opposite sides of the spectrum.
Now allow me to discuss my favorite restaurant. It’s this incredible location where James Beard award-winning mixologists deliver bite-sized pieces of heaven with their concoctions. Every now and then I go there just to enjoy a drink and take in the lavish setting.
David hesitated for a moment, then suddenly insisted on going to my favorite fancy restaurant. After all, who was I to argue? It is, after all, my favorite place. Thus, we departed.
The start of the evening was quite pleasant. We got the delectable little morsels I mentioned before as appetizers, and the cocktails continued to be intriguing.
Dinner was brought, dish after exquisite dish, and there was much joshing and animated conversation. We even had dessert, which is unusual for me unless it’s a really special occasion. We were clearly having a fantastic time, in my opinion.
But how did the evening unfold, my dear? After paying the significant amount, which was obviously more than $600, something unexpected happened.
My card slipped out of my bag and landed on the table out of habit. Things started to go weird after David took up the cause. Rather of simply handing it back, he examined it closely.
Then he did something that made my stomach turn to gravel: he examined every detail and stated, “You should be careful with this,” before putting the card down.
Upon further reflection, it’s possible that he had bad intentions. But it felt like a major invasion of my privacy at the time. Why did he have to be so indifferent to my card? Is there any way he could have given it back without saying something like that?
I quickly called it a night, feeling both humiliated and furious. I thanked him, if a little stiffly, got into a cab, and as soon as I arrived home, I blocked him. Nothing, not even a text or call.
I spoke with a friend about it today, and they said maybe I had been too hard on David. They said that I could have just asked him about it and that there might have been a good reason for him to look at my card.
But all I could think about at the moment was how he had ruined the whole evening and my mood. And so, while I was still thinking about the awful dinner, life decided to throw me another curveball.
Two days after I had pushed the block button on David, here he was, standing outside my house. You did hear that, that’s true. He seemed apologetic and uncomfortable, like he had something important to say.
When he murmured, “Penelope, I’m so sorry,” I could see he meant it by the look in his eyes. “I needed to make sure it was really you, Penelope Smith.”
I listened, confused as I was at this point, as he took a big breath and revealed something startling that would change my life forever. “I’m your half-brother,” was his reply, barely discernible above a whisper.
I tried to process what he had said while I blinked. How could David, the guy I recently turned down for the library date, be my half-brother? He said that the man I had always considered to be my father was not the one I was born with. Instead, it was his father who cheated on my mother. It sounded like something out of a soap opera.
The days that followed went very swiftly. We decided to have DNA testing done because this was a substantial enough claim to not rely solely on faith. The world did indeed have one more surprise in store for me when the results were in: we were, in fact, half-siblings.
My emotions were all over the place as I stood there clutching the results. I was not only surprised, but I also had an odd kind of curiosity for my unidentified half-brother. I wasn’t sure if I should tell my parents. Such details could disclose a lot of things.
In the end, I realized that some things are just too significant to overlook, regardless of the consequences. I made the decision to tell them, as I wanted, and on my terms. Meanwhile, David and I started to painstakingly create the sibling bond that none of us ever had.
Beneath the strangeness and discomfort, there was a relationship that was potentially just as important as the one I had expected from my meet-cute in the library.
Folks, that is all there is to it. A family gathering turned from a supper to a crisis of self. Is it not the case that life operates in peculiar ways?
In order to pay the bill, my significant other insisted that I give the server my card.
It was meant to be an evening of celebration exclusively. After six months at my new job, I was thrilled to finally inform my boyfriend Troy that I had gotten a huge raise.
He recommended the newest, posh restaurant in town, the one with the gorgeous interior and gourmet fare.
He said, “Lisa, let’s just get dressed and head out.” Since we don’t get to do this very often, let’s make the most of it.
We didn’t always choose to go out and do anything, I had to agree. This was not always the case.
“No problem,” I replied. “We really need to go out for a night.”
And I believed that we required it. Mostly because I had begun to see some signs of dissolution in our partnership, even though I wanted to believe that Troy and I were intended to be together forever. It felt, to put it simply, off.
Troy didn’t feel satisfied with his career, but I did.
During a salsa night one evening, he bitterly observed, “I do so much, but nobody bothers to recognize me.”
Troy sat on the couch, dipping his chips in the salsa and guacamole, and complained about his job for the entire evening.
Because of his opinions about my work, I refrained from complimenting him.
“Maybe you just need to give it more time,” I said, passing him a cool margarita alongside. “It’s only been a few months since you arrived.”
“Please,” he muttered to Lisa. “You were unable to understand. Give me room to exist.
But as I found out about this incredible chance, I was giddy with anticipation. I assumed Troy would feel the same about being recognized and having a celebration.
I was astonished when he told me he was proud of me and seemed sincere about it.
“Really, babe,” he said as he arrived to pick me up from my flat. “I admire you, and this is very important.”
The start of the evening was quite pleasant. Troy waited for me to finish getting ready before showing up with a bunch of roses. This was an exception to the rule that he disliked it when I took longer to get dressed than when he arrived.
“Come on,” I said. “I’m ready!”
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