I watched Karen Carpenter: Starving for Perfection last night on Prime, because, well, I’ve loved Karen Carpenter since I heard her on the radio when I was four years old. My parents always had the radio on in the car;

I watch the Olympics: ice dancing and pairs figure skating in the winter, gymnastics in the summer. While I know all Olympic contenders’ athletic skills are phenomenal, like Superman or Wonder Woman, I don’t get it. What does one do