athletes, communication, condescending twatbags, mental health, social media, stupid people

Simone Biles is now my barometer for decency on Facebook…

Today’s featured photo is a screenshot of someone’s very appropriate meme.

For some reason, Facebook keeps suggesting certain groups and pages for me that the powers that be think I “might like”. I do like Simone Biles. I think she’s amazing. To be 26 years old and still doing the breathtaking gymnastics she does is incredible, in my view. So I don’t mind seeing Simone’s fan page on my social media account, even though I don’t technically follow it. She’s legitimately a great athlete and an excellent role model. And I think that, even though she withdrew from most of the women’s gymnastics events at the 2020 Olympics (held in 2021, because of COVID).

Naturally, because I see that page, I also see the hateful comments that mostly come from middle-aged, conservative, white guys who are weighing in from the couch. They leave sarcastic, rude, and sometimes abusive remarks about Simone, calling her a loser, a quitter, a “has been”, and God only knows what else. I’m sure a lot of what they write is sexist and racist, too, although I don’t spend a lot of time hunting down what they have to say. It just isn’t that important. Edited to add: after I wrote this, I did block a guy who posted that he thought she was transgender. SIGH…

Ever since Simone announced that she would be trying for the 2024 Summer Olympic Games in Paris, these creepy incels have been coming out of the woodwork. I first noticed it in early July, and wrote about it then… I also wrote about it in passing on a post I wrote four days ago, which wasn’t that much about Simone as it was people judging others. Today, I feel the need to write about it again, because… why not?

I’ve decided that I will automatically block people who make mean or rude comments about Simone Biles. I figure if someone feels the need to spew their negativity about her on a fan page, they aren’t someone I want to run into again on social media. And, just because I was feeling a bit trollish myself, and I knew it would rile up the haters, I wrote this on the Queen Simone Biles page:

I love blocking all the toxic people calling Simone a quitter!

Most of the responses have been positive, but there have been a few hateful, rude, and sarcastic comments, too. And those people, I’ve immediately blocked. I’ve also blocked people I have only observed and never even engaged with, simply because they leave mean comments about Simone. Simone, by the way, isn’t a quitter yet. She’s still competing and winning. When she does inevitably leave elite level gymnastics, she will still be an amazing gymnast with an incredible record.

This morning, I was surprised to see a few folks complaining about my new policy! Especially since other people started doing the same thing! One guy said I was living in an “echo chamber”. Another complained about “cancel culture” (and just what is he doing with his mean comments about Simone?). Other people said they had the “right” to criticize Simone for what she was doing. I see one guy, whom I have already blocked, has clearly continued to argue about how Simone is taking some other person’s Olympic dream. He’s doing this on a FAN page! Why? Most of these folks don’t even look like the type who enjoy watching gymnastics. They appear to be more like the type to watch pro wrestling while they suck down a Miller Genuine Draft.

I am actually convinced that blocking these people is going to improve my Facebook experience overall. Simone Biles is a great barometer for the quality of people on Facebook. If you’re the type of person who intrudes on a fan page for an amazing athlete who suffered from a legitimate mental health issue that jeopardized her safety, you have no place on my timeline. I don’t have anything to say to you, and I don’t want to read your mess.

When I woke up to complaints that I was blocking people, I wrote this:

Lots of incels wanting me to block them! Love it, because I don’t have to see their ignorant comments ever again!

It IS funny, isn’t it? I announce that I block haters, so they all flock to leave insulting comments to me, so I can more easily block them. Is this something they enjoy? Because once I block them, we won’t be interacting again, unless they have a different Facebook account. They could just as easily block me. Then the blocking power would be in their hands.

To the person complaining about “cancel culture” and my living in an “echo chamber”, I wrote this… (after I blocked them, of course– for everyone else):

Isn’t this page called Queen Simone Biles? Why should people who enjoy Simone’s athleticism have to put up with comments from clueless, negative haters who just came here to troll everyone with their hate? Aren’t there enough news outlets for doing that?

Don’t put hateful comments on a page specifically for Simone Biles, and you won’t be blocked.

I am not stopping anyone from leaving their comments. I am simply preventing their comments from affecting me. I don’t want to read that shit, and if that’s what you’re spewing on an athlete’s page– someone you DON’T even know or care about– that’s a sign that, in general, you don’t have anything interesting to say. So why would I want to communicate with you? Aren’t people taught any manners anymore?

I hasten to add that I don’t block people who are merely critical. One woman, whom I haven’t yet blocked, wrote this:

Yes mental health matters but 90% of us can’t quit our jobs because of it.

This was my response:

But most people’s jobs don’t result in severe injuries, paralysis, or death if they keep working while they have a mental health problem. Why don’t you try to have some empathy?

Besides, the rest of the team did brilliantly, anyway.

The negative people commenting don’t seem to understand that Simone wasn’t able to determine where she was in the air. That can be a fatal issue for someone who is hurtling through the air, twisting and turning and trying to land on their feet. It could mean the difference between landing safely and landing on their head, breaking their neck or shattering their spine, or another body part. No medal, Olympic or otherwise, is worth that risk.

And to put this more in perspective– NBC News reported that the actual monetary value of an Olympic Gold Medal at winter 2022 gold prices was about $750. That’s $750 for all of the hours, blood, sweat, tears, and monetary sacrifices these athletes and their families make in pursuit of Olympic glory. Especially when the vast majority of the gold medal winners will eventually be forgotten by time. Lots of formerly great athletes have gone on to have perfectly mediocre or even sad lives after that glory. Trying for that medal is NOT WORTH risking one’s life or even their ability to walk.

There is already so much tragedy in the world. The fact that a 26 year old Black woman is making athletic history is GOOD NEWS. I want to read about her progress and cheer her on. If I’m on a fan page, that’s what I expect to do. People who show up on fan pages to spew venom are assholes who either lack the intelligence or the respect to engage in an appropriate way. Therefore, they can all just fuck right off. I think it will make my online experience much better, on the whole, as I kick them into Facebook oblivion.

I could just leave this as a parting shot…

There are PLENTY of news outlets reporting on Simone Biles where the haters can opine. I’ll probably block them there, too, though. Because seriously? Who needs it? If I want any more shit out of those people, I’ll squeeze their heads!

Incidentally, I’ve also been blocking random people who anger react at me and leave me insulting comments when I wasn’t even engaging with them. Life is too short for that bullshit.

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athletes, communication, LDS, mental health, YouTube

“We have news for the beautiful people. There’s a lot more of us, than there are of you.”

Today has gotten off to an interesting start. Bill stayed home this morning to help out with the new washer and dryer delivery. They are now here and hooked up, and I’ve been trying to get them connected to WiFi. So far, I managed to get the dishwasher added– we got a new one a few months ago, courtesy of the landlord. But now that I’ve spent an hour or so, trying to decipher German, I’ve concluded that the new machines can’t be connected to WiFi, because somehow in 2023, they don’t have that capability. Oh well… at least it looks like they have timers, so I can see how much time is left in a cycle. That, in and of itself, will make things easier. Our old machines didn’t even have that.

So anyway, I’m giving up on the WiFi for the new appliances. It’s not the end of the world, and maybe might even be better not to have them connected to the “smart” system we have in this house. Last night, Bill manually turned on my desk lamp and knocked it off the network, so I had to re-add it today. The lamp has two bulbs– one is labeled 12, and the other is labeled 18. I turn them on and off using an app on the iPad.

The other thing that happened is kind of comical. I went on Cruise Critic and noticed that for the first time in months, someone posted on the Hebridean Island Cruises board. It was a response to a post I wrote just after Queen Elizabeth II died. I mistakenly wrote HRH instead of “Her Majesty”. The “helpful” person decided to tell me that I got it wrong… eleven months later. I thanked them for the correction. What else could I do, other than be rude about it? She wasn’t my queen, anyway.

Which brings me to today’s title… Since it was Monday and kind of rainy outside, I decided to make a new music video. I’ve been messing around with the idea of doing a song by the Rolling Stones, but I need to work on it some more, to figure out how I want to go about it. After about an hour or so, I decided to do an “old” Pat Benatar song, instead. I chose “True Love”, a song she wrote with her husband, Neil, for her 1991 album of the same name. I know it wasn’t one of her most successful releases, but that album happens to be one of my favorites by Pat Benatar. It’s basically Pat doing the blues, at which she excels. That was the genre where she got her start, decades ago. I love to do blues songs myself, so I gave it a whirl.

No, I’ll never be a “hottie”, but I still have some worth, right?

I decided not to put on makeup yesterday, or even get one of my trademark shawls to wear over my usual attire. I was a little nervous about doing that, but then I realized that I didn’t look that much different without makeup. I doubt anyone cares, anyway. I don’t have a big audience, either way.

Someone new left me a really kind comment. A woman named Julie wrote “Simply awesome! Love this!”

So I responded with thanks, and “That makes my day!” (which it really does)

And she came back and wrote, “knotheadusc, you need to keep going, you are awesome, unique and beautiful!”

What an incredible mood booster that was! People are usually so quick to tear others down, and yet here was this lady, saying such a kind thing to me! It really made me feel good, and gave me some faith in humanity… until I visited RfM.

Some time ago, someone posted a thread about nudity. I decided to respond to it, because I am a big fan of nudism. Below is my first comment:

I live in Germany and in spite of my fluffy and decidedly unsexy body, I LIVE for the nude spas. It took me a long time to take the plunge, but once I did it the first time, I was hooked. I find it very liberating! And honestly, after the first few minutes, it’s no big deal at all. No one is looking at other people or mocking them. They’re at the spa to relax.

I’ve written about this a bunch of times in my blog and those are, by far, some of my most popular posts, ever.

The funny thing is, I was a lot more self-conscious about showing my face on YouTube, than I was about being naked in front of a bunch of Germans. But now, neither experience is a big deal to me, anymore. My husband, the exmo, has always been a bit bashful about his body. But even he’s learned to embrace a trip to the Friedrichsbad.

I’ve been to several textile free spas in Germany, and although I tend to be critical and shy about my appearance, I really do find the nude spas very liberating. I’ve written about the experiences Bill and I have had a few times on the travel blog, and those posts tend to be very popular. Bill is still kind of shy about the nude spas, but he indulges me. Honestly, most people are really only naked when they’re in the pools. In the saunas, or when they’re just lying around, most people cover up with a towel or wear a robe.

Quite predictably, someone came along and posted two comments, neither of which were to my comment:

——————————————————-
> I have two stories on this topic.
>
> I was in Germany on a business trip years ago.
> First night at the hotel, I decided to find the
> sauna. I found the sauna. I was wearing swim
> trunks and left them on, as I would in the states.
> No one else was in there when I went in.
>
> In a few minutes, a French couple came in and sat
> down with nothing on.

You make this all sound wonderful, but it’s not. I’ve been in continental Europe and have seen these types of people. Like my comment below, they are rarely the type of people you’d want to see nude. They tend to look more like the older Hilda Schwab than the younger Gina Lollobrigida. Or in the case of males, more like Ron Jeremy than Brad Pitt.

Someone responded, quite correctly:

Whoosh. People don’t go nude to arouse you or anyone else.

Nor, for that matter, does your Speedo improve the experience for others.

The second comment was further down the thread. Same person wrote this:

In reality, the type of people who tend to take their clothes off in public, rarely tend to be the people one would like to see nude.

People can whitter on all they like about body shaming, but unless you have a “beach bod” (and only a handful of us do), you should put it away.

I decided to respond to that suggestion… again, it was later in the evening.

In my experience, people in the nude spas aren’t sitting around looking at each other. They’re there to relax and are focused on themselves. They usually wear robes or wrap up in towels if they aren’t in the pools.

I don’t care if someone else thinks I’m not “hot” enough to gawk at. I’m not at the spa for anyone but me. Plus, I’m always there with my husband, anyway. He loves me for my mind.

If you’re going to nude areas inspecting other people’s bodies and judging them, you obviously don’t belong there. Spas are for healing, not ogling others.

Reading that just drove home how “cavemen like” so many people are, especially in American culture. It seems like in the United States, so many people are only concerned with the external. The fact that this person– I’m almost certain it’s a man– thinks that people ought to “put it away” because they don’t have a “beach bod” is just a reminder as to why I like living over here. Most people aren’t that shallow… and if they are, I don’t understand them, anyway. 😉

It actually took me a long time before I was ready to “take the plunge” at a textile free spa. I found the experience exhilarating, and not a big deal at all. Like I said, if you actually attend a spa, you notice that no one is staring at you… nor is it a place where there’s no one but hotties. I’m reminded of a line from Revenge of the Nerds, when the character, Lewis Skolnick, says “We have news for the ‘beautiful people’. There’s a lot more of us than there are of you.” How true that is.

I wonder what makes that person think he’s the authority on whether someone is “hot” enough to be naked in public. Everybody has a different definition of what and who is “beautiful”. It’s a subjective thing. Moreover, there are a lot of different ways to show beauty. Some people are physically attractive to most people, while others have other beautiful qualities that can’t immediately be seen. Unfortunately, there are a lot of shallow people who really only care about what makes their crotches stir.

What matters most to me, personally, is whether or not Bill finds me beautiful. He does, so that’s really all that counts, in my opinion. What some random moron thinks about my body is none of my business. But so many of these folks want to share their vile opinions. They need to mind their own business and stop emulating Donald Trump.

By the same token, I’ve been seeing a lot of crazy comments about Simone Biles, who at age 26, has decided to make another run at the Olympics. She is still a serious contender, too. At her most recent meet, she cleaned up in the medals. But people still want to shit all over her for doing what she does.

I’ve read so many toxic and ignorant comments about how she’s a “quitter”, because she opted not to compete in several events during the 2020 Olympic Games. I’ve taken to just blocking people who leave unkind comments about her, because I think anyone sitting on the couch negatively judging Simone for what she does must be a pretty shitty person. She has every right to try to make the Olympic team. She may not succeed, but she certainly has the right to try. And if she doesn’t feel safe taking a risk while competing, she has the right to make a decision not to compete. More people need to “zip it.”

It really amazes me how many people think they need to share their opinions about how other people look or what they’re doing with their lives. It just makes me wonder if these folks are just dreadful people who just want to watch the world burn. Hell, with climate change, it won’t be long before that’s a literal experience for a lot of us. Why make life worse by being toxic and rude?

Anyway… I do really appreciate the kind comment that one person left yesterday. Those are the people who give me hope for humanity.

Now… I think I will play guitar, walk Noyzi, and maybe even try out my new laundry facilities. Catch you later.

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athletes, condescending twatbags, mental health, sports, stupid people, Trump

The many toxic attitudes regarding extraordinary people…

Today is our last day of vacation, and Bill and I really should be heading into Copenhagen to get some last photos. BUT FIRST… I feel compelled to vent my spleen about something I read in the New York Times the other day.

Extraordinarily gifted women’s gymnast Simone Biles has decided to train for her third Olympic Games. Plenty of people commenting on the news article about Ms. Biles were very supportive of her efforts, even though she’s considered “old” for the sport, and even though she withdrew from some events during the Tokyo Summer Olympic Games in 2021. Simone Biles was, if you recall, suffering from “the twisties”, which made competing even more dangerous than it usually is. She opted out of competing to protect her own health and wellbeing, which I think is her right.

But there were quite a few other comments, mostly from MALES, about how Simone Biles let America down in the last Summer Olympics. It always amazes me what these people think they have the right to comment on. I highly doubt most of the MALES commenting on women’s gymnastics even watch the sport. And a lot of them who do watch it probably just like looking at tiny women in revealing leotards doing death defying stunts.

It’s true that Simone Biles withdrew from several events and took up a spot that another athlete could have filled. But another American ultimately won the Olympic gold medal in the All Around competition, anyway. When I pointed that out, some guy posted that the women’s gymnastics team didn’t get the team gold medal. My reply to that is, “So what?” It’s a fucking medal. It’s not worth someone’s life or health.

Aren’t the Olympics supposed to be about “friendly” sports competitions among the world’s nations? Aren’t we supposed to be practicing good sportsmanship? Why is it so important to win medals? The medal isn’t worth someone’s ability to walk or talk. It’s not worth someone going through life with chronic pain due to preventable injuries brought on by taking risks and failing. It’s certainly not worth DEATH.

Women’s gymnastics at the elite level is a very dangerous sport. Many wonderful, extremely talented athletes have been seriously hurt or even killed due to performing when they weren’t ready or completely prepared. I would not have wanted to see Simone trying to land a difficult vault while she was suffering from the twisties. We would not have wanted to see her fail, especially if her failure included a catastrophic injury broadcasted on live television and the Internet. The Olympic medal is not worth that. It’s toxic to insist that an Olympic gold medal is worth all costs… especially when you’re a MALE who can’t do any of the things Simone makes look easy.

Some guy wanted to argue with me about this and I wrote that he wasn’t going to be someone with whom I should waste my time and energy arguing. I wished him a “nice day”. He wished me luck in my “safe space”. Translation? I bet he’s a Trump supporter who doesn’t see women as valuable in any capacity other than as objects of titillation. He obviously doesn’t care about female athletes as people. I probably shouldn’t have bothered, but I left him a short response… “I’m not in a ‘safe space’. I’m just right about this.” And while I didn’t bother to check his Facebook profile to see which politician he supports, I’m pretty sure I know…

Guys like him wear their political preferences like a badge, not unlike the idiot men I wrote about a few years ago who decided to test out a bullet proof vest while drinking. I knew they were Trump supporters just based on that, and when I checked out their social media profiles, I was proven right.

Simone Biles doesn’t owe anyone a goddamned thing. If she wants to try for the Paris 2024 Summer Olympics, that’s her prerogative. She may not be successful. Shannon Miller tried to make the Sydney Olympics in 2000, and she failed. Biles may fail, too. But she has the right to try if she wants to, and she should be respected for all she’s done so far. She’s won seven medals for Old Glory. I’m sure that’s way more than the moron male on Facebook has ever won.

It’s not just the athletes who have this ridiculous burden, either. Artists and performers face it, too. Maybe if people hadn’t expected so much of performers like Tom Petty, Karen Carpenter, Prince, Michael Jackson, Kurt Cobain, and the like, they might all still be with us.

I’m sick and tired of toxic macho asswipes who armchair quarterback what extraordinary artists and athletes should be doing with their careers. It’s especially prevalent among men who comment on females. It’s the usual sexist bullshit… and in Biles’s case, it wouldn’t surprise me if racism came into play, too.

These guys have no room to talk about someone like Simone Biles. They probably ought to zip it… but we know they won’t. So I’ll just keep venting about it, as I wish Simone Biles the best of luck with her comeback. I hope she wipes the self-righteous smirks off the faces of the idiots who criticize her… but if she doesn’t manage to do that, that’s alright, too. She’s certainly done her part to “make America great,” and what she’s done is something I’d be proud to show my pseudo grandkids. I can’t say the same thing about Trump and his toxic macho ilk… and those who admire him.

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blog news, communication, Military, musings, narcissists, YouTube

Yesterday, I was reminded once again of what’s important…

The featured photo is of a beautiful loaf of bread Bill made yesterday. He’s become very accomplished at baking bread. It’s a skill he’s learned, and shares with younger daughter… It reminds me somewhat of my writing “career”. If you’re a regular reader, you might want to skip to the subheading.

Lately, when it comes to blogging, I’ve been kind of losing my mojo. I look at the number of posts that actually get read by more than a few people, and I wonder why I keep writing. I have some posts that are very popular and get read by hundreds, or even thousands, of people. And I have some posts that get read by just one person. I’ve been wondering if maybe it’s time to quit blogging and do something else. What’s the point of writing if people aren’t interested?

Granted, it’s not that often that I only get one hit on a post. I also genuinely enjoy writing, especially when I’ve found an especially interesting or “juicy” topic. My blogs have also been useful in unusual capacities. (and apologies in advance to those who already know about the story I’m, once again, relating…)

Like, for instance, when we lived in our former house, and our ex landlady tried to accuse us of committing theft of a refrigerator. Thanks to my blogging and propensity to take lots of photos, I was able to prove that her allegations were false.

Ex landlady had claimed we dumped the fridge on her, and “stole” her nice one… which I had documented was one I purchased several days after we moved in on September 1, 2014. I had a receipt for it, because I bought it on Amazon.de. I had also blogged about that situation, back in 2014, before I realized what a mistake it was to rent that house. Former tenant had been following my writings and commented. Unlike later, when she’d leave comments and delete them, former tenant didn’t remove those early comments… which were much more conciliatory toward us. They came in handy years later, when ex landlady was trying to force us to fund her upgrades. If I hadn’t been a blogger, she wouldn’t have left those comments, and I probably wouldn’t have those photos.

I don’t know if ex landlady really believed that we stole her refrigerator and dumped an old American one on her. But, because on September 1, 2014, I had taken a photo of the crappy little refrigerator in the kitchen on the day we moved into her house, I could show that the old fridge she’d claimed we “dumped” on her was there the day we moved in. We could also prove the fridge wasn’t American, as it was plugged directly into the wall. American appliances have different plugs and use 110 voltage as opposed to 220.

Even though that whole situation was ludicrous, it was still very unpleasant to have to go through it. We were just looking for a place to live, and expecting our landlady to leave us in peace. Apparently, she had different ideas about what was reasonable and appropriate behavior on her part, and she expected us to simply give in to her accusations and demands.

Later, when things really started going south, former tenant was acting more like a flying monkey. I was not as aware as I should have been, and former tenant would leave comments and erase them. I’m not totally sure, but I assume she was stoking the situation– making it much worse than it needed to be. I don’t know what her motive was. Maybe she was simply getting her kicks, enjoying causing problems for us. Maybe she was jealous that we lived in Germany… or maybe she just didn’t like me, personally, or didn’t appreciate that I was a blogger instead of working at AAFES. She might have simply hated the name of my blog, assuming that I’m a narcissistic asshole just based on that. Who knows? I can’t ask her now, because she’s no longer among the living.

What I do know is that former tenant’s interference, coupled with ex landlady’s abuse, did some real damage to me. For a long time, I wondered if I should quit blogging, because she was using my blogs to stir up shit. I had legitimate trouble writing for awhile. I was feeling paranoid, and was, for a time, literally afraid to share my thoughts. It also took me months to feel comfortable in my current home, thanks to that situation with former tenant and ex landlady. I almost quit blogging back in 2019, when things got very intense and Bill decided to pursue legal action against ex landlady.

In the end, I forced myself to keep writing, even though my writing felt kind of “constipated” for awhile. I didn’t want to give those people the satisfaction of forcing me to quit what I enjoy doing. I especially wanted to send a hearty “fuck you” to former tenant, as I hadn’t planned on having an unofficial “minder” included in our rental contract when Bill signed the lease in 2014. Seriously… I don’t know why she was so determined to be involved in our business, but it was truly a bizarre situation. Maybe someday, I’ll even write a book about it. 😉

Things gradually got easier, and I eventually relaxed… I stopped engaging so much with the local military population, which made things much better. Although there are people from all walks of life in the U.S. military community, I’ve found that most of them seem to think I’m weird, annoying, or obnoxious. I am occasionally all of those things, but I don’t go out of my way to bother people. Some people want to assume that I do, though, and stir up drama, and as of 2019, I simply didn’t have the time for it anymore. I left high school in 1990, but some military folks are apparently still there, years after their graduation days.

I’ve since found that it’s much better to simply let readers find their way to me, rather than trying to promote the blog. Contrary to what people might believe, I don’t do this for “fame” or money. But I do sometimes get a little burned out… and I do worry, sometimes, that someone will get angry or upset about something and cause problems I don’t need. Dealing with former tenant reminded me that some people have alternative agendas… or are simply unhinged. So now, I’m much more cautious… and yes, sometimes I do consider whether or not writing is still worth my while.

Which brings me to today’s title…

I used to keep a Facebook page for the blog, which worked okay most of the time, but occasionally resulted in unpleasant and uninvited interactions with people who didn’t agree with my opinions and lacked the courage to comment publicly. I’d usually get those messages first thing in the morning, which would get my days off to a bad start.

Last year, when I got one too many wacko private messages from someone who didn’t even follow the blog or read what she was commenting on, I decided to delete the page. I had already deleted the blog’s contact page ages ago, mainly because people were leaving comments on things, but not including information about the content they were commenting on, which would leave me confused. A few people were also being insulting and chastising me– which, sorry, I don’t have to tolerate. If you want to leave a comment like that, you can do so publicly, so everyone can respond. And that’s only if I deign to approve the comment.

Yesterday afternoon, I received a really nice email from someone who must have been very determined to find my email address. I purposely don’t provide direct contact information on my blogs anymore, mainly because I don’t want to deal with crazies, like former tenant. Not everyone likes what I do, but some people have the wrong idea about me, and my motivations. I try to present truth as I see it, which doesn’t always make people happy. I still have the right to express myself without harassment, so long as what I write isn’t defamatory or libelous.

Making it harder to contact me directly also means that I miss out on positive feedback, like the email I got yesterday. The person wrote that she was very grateful that I had written about British gymnastics coach, Monica Phelps, and her sex offender husband, Brian Phelps. Apparently, the emailer was someone who had experience with the Phelpses, and she and others had read my post(s). And, although I don’t think I was nearly as negative about the Phelpses as I should have been in that first post, they were apparently glad someone had written something.

The crazy thing is, I wrote that first post about the Phelpses in December 2020, during the height of the pandemic. I was just bored one day, and ran across some “funny” YouTube videos someone had made about Monica Phelps and her oddly “verbal diarrhea” style of gymnastics commentating. Phelps made all kinds of appalling, shaming comments about gymnasts’ bodies. These weren’t gymnasts she was coaching, either– not that that would have been appropriate. They were simply girls and young women who were competing in the sport. Monica Phelps was comparing them to stick insects and making very belittling and insulting statements about them as they were performing very dangerous and physically demanding routines on television.

I am a singer, and I have sung in public. I know how nerve wracking that is. Adrenaline courses through the body as you face the audience, hoping you don’t forget words or your voice doesn’t crack… And yes, those things have happened to me before, and when they happen, they are mortifying. But… when you mess up as a singer, it generally doesn’t mean that you could be permanently injured or killed. Gymnasts, especially at the elite level shown on television, can really hurt themselves if they mess up. In many cases, what they’re doing is physically incredible, even if they aren’t at the level of Simone Biles or Sunisa Lee.

It was shocking to me to listen to Monica Phelps talk about what the gymnasts look like, and say some of the insulting things she said. I must admit, when I wrote that first post, I hadn’t really stopped to think about how very damaging it must have been to gymnasts who later listened to her comments. My initial reaction was laughter at the funny videos, but I admit that it should have been more like horror.

As I was completely unfamiliar with Monica Phelps in December 2020, I had no idea whatsoever that she had coached gymnasts, and that there were allegedly a lot of abuses in her facility. It wasn’t until February 2022, when I noticed a lot of hits on that first post, that I read more about Monica and Brian Phelps, and the terrible things that were alleged to have happened in their gym. I suspect that soon, there may be another huge women’s gymnastics scandal, this time originating in Britain, instead of the United States.

Yesterday, when I had “writer’s block”, I sort of took the day off of this blog, and just wrote on the travel blog. Sometimes, I need to do that, to give my brain a chance to recharge. But, as I was looking at the interaction for my latest posts, I wondered why I keep doing this… and making my writing public. Then I realized that sometimes, posts take off later, when they get tracked on Google. And I also realized that a lot of people do read and like what I do. They just don’t always take the time to say so… and there have been times when people have appreciated my efforts. I would say there are more readers like the one who contacted me yesterday than people like former tenant.

And anyway… I have always liked to write. I’ve been doing it since I was a child and had terrible handwriting that no one could read. I’ve always loved writing stories. It’s something I’m good at, and do well. It’s also easier for me to write original stuff for reading, than sing original stuff, although once my guitar skills are better, that could change.

So, I’ll keep blogging… and be grateful when anyone reads my posts, especially when they comment. I don’t even mind criticism, as long as it’s delivered in a civil manner. And thanks again to the ladies who appreciate my posts about Monica Phelps. I’ll be looking for more developments on that story, and probably writing about them.

Hopefully, some will find my efforts interesting… but I think it’s most important that I still find the work worth doing. And right now, I still do… whether you choose to read it, or not.

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book reviews, sports

A review of Feel No Fear: The Power, Passion, and Politics of a Life in Gymnastics by Bela Karolyi and his ghostwriter, Nancy Ann Richardson…

The women’s gymnastics competition is over at the 2020 Summer Olympic Games in Tokyo. For the first time in many years, the last name “Karolyi” was not part of the Olympic action. Although I have never been the slightest bit gymnastically inclined myself, I’ve watched the sport since the late 1980s. In those days, Bela and Marta Karolyi were super hot gymnastics coaches who were known for guiding athletes like Nadia Comaneci and Mary Lou Retton to global stardom. By 1991, the Karolyis had added the teenaged phenom, Kim Zmeskal, to their stable of amazing gymnasts. At the time, it truly seemed the Karolyis could do no wrong, even if behind closed doors, things were not as they seemed.

I just finished reading the book Feel No Fear: The Power, Passion, and Politics of a Life in Gymnastics. This book, published May 31, 1994, was probably mostly written by ghost author Nancy Ann Richardson, but it’s Bela Karolyi’s life story, such as it was at that time. In the 90s, most of us either didn’t know or turned a blind eye to the abuses suffered by women gymnasts, particularly at the elite level. The Karolyis, while controversial, were also very charismatic people. It made sense that Bela would share his story with the masses. As it’s written in this book, the whitewashed version of Bela Karolyi’s tale is the stuff of which American dreams are made. It would take many years before more of the truth about the Karolyis started to leak out, and their motives and methods were questioned.

I picked up a used copy of this book a few months ago. At the time, I also purchased Kerri Strug’s book, Landing on My Feet: A Diary of Dreams. Both Bela’s and Kerri’s books are out of print, so I had to wait for physical copies of them to reach me. Kerri Strug was one of Bela’s gymnasts, and she’s best known for sticking her second vault at the 1996 Atlanta Olympics when she was badly hurt. In the wake of Simone Biles’ controversial decision to withdraw from most of the Olympic events in Tokyo, there’s been a renewed interest in Kerri’s famous Olympic story. Consequently, I’ve noticed a lot of people hitting my review of Kerri Strug’s book, which I wrote in April of this year.

Kerri’s book got to me much faster than Bela’s did, and as I recall, I managed to read it within a day or so. It was an overwhelmingly positive book, even the parts about disgraced former physician, Larry Nassar, who was there to help Kerri after Bela carried her off the floor following her historic vault. I think I actually meant to read Bela’s book first, and threw Kerri’s into my Amazon cart as an afterthought, not realizing that Kerri Strug would be remembered at this year’s Olympic Games. But as it turned out, Bela’s book would prove to be less interesting and relevant than Kerri’s book is, especially in 2021. Kerri Strug is now relevant, while Bela Karolyi no longer is.

Feel No Fear begins with a story about the 1979 Gymnastics World Championships, which were held in Forth Worth, Texas. At the time, Bela Karolyi, and his wife, Marta, were the women’s gymnastics coaches in Romania. They had brought a young team of gymnasts with them to Texas, along with Nadia Comaneci, who had recently gotten back into shape after having been “kidnapped” from Karolyi’s tutelage and “trained” by less oppressive coaches in Bucharest.

Nadia had injured her wrist, and Bela had dressed the minor wound the night before, but a Romanian official– Bela’s nemesis– had spirited Nadia away to a local hospital. There, doctors had supposedly done a surgical procedure on the injury, numbing and heavily bandaging it, and effectively rendering Nadia useless to the team. Bela was, of course, livid, but at the time, he was subject to the whims of government flunkies who did the bidding of Romania’s dictatorial president at the time, Nicolae Ceausescu. The Fort Worth story isn’t resolved until later in the book; it serves as a hook to get people invested in Bela’s story.

After setting up the scene, Karolyi’s life story starts at the beginning. Bela Karolyi was born September 13, 1942, in what was then Kolozsvár, Hungary, but is now Cluj-Napoca, Romania. He was the second child of an engineer father and his mild mannered wife, and younger brother to his older sister. Karolyi mentions that his paternal grandfather was a very gregarious Hungarian man who liked parties and pretty women. His grandmother was a very stern German woman. Karolyi, who thinks he’s a bit like his grandfather, explains that his grandparents split up, and he was denied much of a relationship with his grandfather. Bela laments that he never really got to know the man, especially since his father was more like his strict and apparently humorless and demanding German grandmother.

Bela Karolyi’s father wanted him to follow in his footsteps as an engineer. But Bela was more interested in sports. Bela’s interest in sports and lack of affinity for the sciences caused friction in his home. When Bela decided to study physical education instead of science, his father threw him out of the family home. Bela Karolyi had to live by his muscles and wits to get through university. He pursued sports with a passion– hammer throwing, handball, track, and boxing, specifically. He had to take a gymnastics class as part of his studies and apparently hated it, at first. But then he met Marta Erőss, who was also an ethnic Hungarian. Marta had been a gymnast in high school, and was also studying physical education. The two were a love match, and they got married in 1963.

The story/legend continues, much as I’ve seen it depicted in movies like Nadia

I watched this movie on TV years ago. It was made in 1984. Kerri Strug wrote in her book that she watched it many times. Nadia herself once said that this movie was “pure fiction”, but Bela Karolyi’s book indicates that this movie is pretty accurate. I suspect the truth lies somewhere in the middle.

Karolyi explains that he found the Romanian regime oppressive. He was constantly at odds with government officials, who wouldn’t let him run his program without interference. In 1981, having been forced to lead a team of Romanian gymnasts, including Nadia Comaneci, on a U.S. tour, Bela and Marta Karolyi, along with the team’s choreographer, Geza Poszar, decided to defect. They lost their minders in the busy streets of New York City. At the time, the Karolyis didn’t speak English, and they only had one of Marta’s aunts to help them assimilate. Their young daughter, Andrea, was still in Romania, and they weren’t sure if they’d ever be able to get her out of there. They had no home and no money. Still, through apparent grit and determination, the Karolyis were able to claw their way into the U.S. gymnastics scene, and they went on to create a “powerhouse” of women gymnasts.

Karolyi writes a bit about some of his more famous American clients, to include Dianne Durham, one of the first Black elite gymnasts. Durham recently died, and her first name is repeatedly misspelled “Diane” in the book. He includes comments about Mary Lou Retton, Kristie Phillips, and her mother, Phoebe Mills, Chelle Stack, Brandy Johnson, Rhonda Faehn, and Kim Zmeskal. I found this part of the book interesting, although I also thought some of his more candid comments, particularly the negative ones, were kind of telling. I remember reading an unofficial manuscript Chelle Stack’s mother wrote about working with Bela. It seems there wasn’t much love lost there.

Throughout the book, Bela Karolyi comes off as passionate, dedicated, and even kind. He includes several well known stories about how he achieved the American Dream. Some of the stories are kind of funny, like, for instance, his tale about how, when he was learning English, he thought the term “son of a bitch” was a compliment. Karolyi is supposedly an animal lover who loves dogs, and thought it was a good thing to be called a “child of a dog”. He writes that he’d actually wanted to be a veterinarian, but lacked the political and social contacts in Romania to achieve that dream. Physical education was actually Karolyi’s second choice of a career.

This generous, humorous, and gregarious side of Karolyi’s was also the public persona most people saw, especially when he was on television. However, in the wake of the gymnastics scandal of a few years ago, we found out that this was mostly a facade. Gymnasts like Dominique Moceanu have spoken out about Karolyi’s methods, which were said to be abusive and even sadistic. In fact, just this year, there was a book published in Romania called Nadia and the Securitate, which includes information about Bela and Marta Karolyi. It was written by Romanian historian, Stefjarel Olaru, and based on interviews with Romanian gymnasts and records kept by the Securitate (Romania’s secret police during Ceausescu’s reign). The gymnasts reported that the Karolyis beat and starved them, and in fact, Comaneci supposedly attempted suicide by drinking bleach when she was fifteen years old. She reportedly was happy to be hospitalized for two days, because it meant she didn’t have to go to the gym.

I remember reading this article. It made Nadia sound like a bulimic tramp.

I remember in March 1990, an issue of Life Magazine came out. Nadia was on the cover, as she had recently defected from Romania, just weeks before the Ceausescu regime fell. I recall reading that article in the library at Longwood College (now university), shocked by the negative way Nadia was portrayed. She reportedly had bulimia and was “narcissistic”, although it later came out that the much older man who had helped her escape Romania was actually holding her captive. Nadia revamped her image and is now married to fellow Olympic gold medalist gymnast, Bart Conner. But I clearly remember that in the early 90s, Nadia was depicted as some kind of “euro trash”, while her former coach was supposedly the greatest gymnastics coach ever. I guess it just goes to show that you can’t always trust what you read.

I think Feel No Fear is basically well-written. The ghostwriter did a good job making the story sound like it came directly from Bela Karolyi. There are two photo sections, which include old photos of Karolyi and his family. Those photos might have even been worth the price of the book. However, I think this book is largely whitewashed PR, which depicts Karolyi in an undeserved flattering light. I notice that Karolyi is quick to take credit for successes and just as quick to deflect blame when things go wrong. There’s no question in my mind that many of Bela’s methods were extremely abusive, even if the Karolyis did produce some champions. I wonder if the fleeting fame of a gold medal is worth a lifetime of psychological and physical trauma. I suppose I’d have to ask Karolyi’s former gymnasts about that. Karolyi himself is reportedly now suffering from Alzheimer’s Disease.

I did find Feel No Fear to be intriguing reading, although perhaps not in the way Karolyi had intended it to be. It’s especially interesting to read about Karolyi’s methods in the wake of Simone Biles’ decision to look after her own mental health and well-being, over taking one for the team. Biles was one of Larry Nassar’s many victims, and she has suffered incredible stress. Not only was she under tremendous pressure to perform perfectly at the Olympics this year, but she’s also had to contend with her brother’s serious legal issues, which only now seem to be rectifying.

I think if Bela or Marta Karolyi had been coaching this year’s gymnastics team, Biles would have been under intense pressure to perform, even if it meant seriously injuring or killing herself. As the world witnessed back in 1996, Bela Karolyi had no problem spurring his gymnasts on to fame, even when they were seriously hurt, as Kerri Strug was. Yes, Kerri stuck her vault, but at what price? And isn’t she very lucky that she didn’t permanently injure or kill herself on live TV?

I don’t think Feel No Fear is widely available anymore. I do think it’s worth reading, if only for historical purposes, and if only to demonstrate how much bullshit the U.S. gymnastics machine has been peddling for so many years. Joan Ryan’s 1995 book, Little Girls in Pretty Boxes, is the first one I remember reading that shined a light on just how abusive the sports of women’s gymnastics and women’s figure skating can be. It’s taken over 25 years for people to realize how right Joan Ryan was, especially in light of Larry Nassar’s abuses. Remember, Nassar was regarded as a “nice guy”. Gymnasts trusted him because he was “kind” and gave them food and comfort, while coaches like the Karolyis (and others) would scream, throw things, starve them, and even beat them to get results. That trust set them up for even more egregious abuse.

The Karolyis defend themselves.

I, for one, am glad to see this sport evolving, and people like Simone Biles, who is unquestionably extremely athletically gifted, showing everyone that there’s more to life than winning… and more to gymnastics than competing at all costs. I hope she’s able to continue to usher an end to the abusive era in which Bela and Marta Karolyi encouraged and participated. I admire the Karolyis for their ability to get out of Romania and succeed in the United States, but I do not appreciate the unethical manner in which they achieved those dreams– by abusing impressionable and ambitious young women (and their parents) who simply wanted to win at all costs.

As for Feel No Fear, I think it’s a well-polished and whitewashed version of the Karolyi legend. It’s an enjoyable enough read, if you don’t know anything about gymnastics or the truth regarding the Karolyis. But I think anyone who knows anything about elite gymnastics during the Karolyi era is going to see this story for what it really is… well-formed and highly polished bullshit.

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