Q: "It has been years since I have seen Richard Simmons. Where and how is he?" — Rena of Salt Lake City, Utah.

A: That is a question his closest friends, family and associates want the answer to. Simmons, who built a fortune helping people lose weight by "sweating to the oldies," has been basically incommunicado for almost two years. A former assistant was so worried that he contacted the LAPD.

Two policemen made a welfare call (checking to see if he was OK). After an hour with Simmons, the police found him relaxed, polite and appreciative of their concern. He explained that after 30 years in the spotlight he wanted to spend some time alone. They did notice a limp. It has been suggested that Simmons was depressed over a knee injury.

The Richard Simmons who I met and kept up with for over 20 years loved the spotlight. One time, during a personal appearance at an amusement park, Simmons was pleased that "everyone was following" him. Of course, it did not hurt that he was schlepping a giant stuffed animal under one arm.

The thing that made (and still makes) Simmons so ebullient was he not only talked the talk; he walked the walk.

A native of New Orleans, by the time he graduated from high school he weighed 280 pounds on a 5' 8"frame. Famed director Federico Fellini hired Simmons to play an obese man in a bathtub the cult film "Satyricon." It was that un-credited film role that made him decide to lose weight.

He became so successful he opened a weight loss studio in LA called "Slimmons." Several "General Hospital" stars used the gym and thought Simmons would be great on the show. Simmons played himself for many years. He also loved being the "what the heck" foil on shows such as "The Late Show With David Letterman." He's often said that he does not have many friends. He claims he is better in groups than one on one.

I was proud to consider him a friend. Although I was never a recipient, Simmons often gave talk-show hosts beautiful diamond rings. I did learn and got a lot from him. One day he saw me eating a tuna salad sandwich. He literally pulled it out of my mouth and told me to exercise.

Always funny and kind, he was a perfectionist. When making an on-air cooking demonstration, he refused to continue because a copper mixing bowl had not been provided. The show's producers scrambled and found the right mixing bowl. Simmons was delighted. A delighted Simmons is a joy to see.

One of the last appearances I made with him was on a San Francisco talk show. I was stunned when he gave me the most beautiful tribute (not sure why). It was like hearing my own eulogy,

Simmons admits that he has not been to his studio in years. He told police, "I don't need to run things. I have people who run things." But no one can run a weight-loss studio like Simmons can. It is like corned beef without the fat. Wait, that is the only kind of corned beef he would eat.

To find out more about Lynda Hirsch and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate web page at www.creators.com.

Photo credit: Jennifer C.