I really wish that someone would take me, hold me real still, and just kick me in the groin. Maybe that would remind me not to keep doing the same stupid things over and over again. They say one learns from his past mistakes.

Why does big business hate big people?  They must.  Did you ever notice the appalling lack of choice that we larger folks are faced with when we shop?

Unlike Alfred E. Newman, I worry...about everything.  For instance, if I'm waiting for my wife, and she's five minutes late, I automatically assume she's in critical condition at some local hospital emergency room.

I did something today that I'm not very proud of. I honestly have to say that I'm glad my mother isn't around to know about this. If she were, she would have been horrified.

It's time to play another game of Is It Just Me, or What? Here are the simple rules. I tell the story and my reaction.

Romance is in the air. Can you smell it? This time of year, people start getting romantic.

It has always amused me to see huge corporations issue public statements or press releases in an attempt to say one thing, when, clearly, they mean something else. I used to work for Time Warner and they were experts at giving certain key employees a glowing send-off, when, in truth, they had come to the conclusion that the employee was not as key as he may have thought. The corporation will use such phrases as, “So and So has decided to pursue other opportunities.” What they meant was: “So and ...

Well I've just finished a great week, which I've just spent in North Central Wisconsin. I'm packing my bags and thinking about all the fun things I've done. If my life were a Broadway musical, which I've always hoped, in some Truman-Show-like way, it is, this would be the perfect place to break into song.

I'm sitting here in the Richmond airport and I'm about to burst with pride. I just had to have someone to share this with, and, well, it looks like you're the one. Now, before I tell you what happened just a few minutes ago, I do need to confess something about myself.

Have I told you how close I came to death recently? It all began back in May, when I started having pains in my chest. Of course, being one with a stiff upper lip and a tiny little brain, I kept insisting that there was nothing wrong with my heart.

I've made a discovery over the last couple of years, and I have to be honest; I am shocked. I'm talking about the way the elderly are treated in today's fast-paced, high-tech society. I won't pull any punches.

On occasion, and mainly because I’m a public spirited sort of guy, I’ll gather the children in the neighborhood together; my wife will fix them some knockwurst sandwiches; and I’ll regale them with delightful stories about the good ol’ days. They seem to enjoy it. “Kids,” I’ll start, “would you like to hear about the good ol’ days?” “Yippee!” They’ll exclaim.

I want to make one thing perfectly clear, before I  even get to the topic at hand. I am not complaining. I'm merely explaining.

So, I was in the mood for an excellent steak, succulent fried chicken (skin removed, of course), and the best green bean casserole this side of the James River.  Needless to say, I headed over to Golden Corral.  Last night was a very special night there.

I notice one of my Facebook friends is thinking about starting a campaign to "Save the Ho-Hos."  Personally, I can't think of a more noble cause in which to be involved. You see, my fondest memories, from my boyhood days, centered around Hostess products. Now, you may be saying, right now, "Of course they do, fat boy." But those memories are only partly due to my love of sweets.

Although many in my family would dispute this assertion, I really am a good-natured guy.  I am rarely in a bad mood.  But winter puts me in a horrible mood.

Do you ever watch those crime dramas like Criminal Minds and Bones? And you know how they'll discover the secret room or the secret storage locker of the unsub (I love that word). And when they go in they find that this guy has hundreds of photos and newspaper clippings of everyone he has ever killed, or maybe he'll have a collection of baseball caps or wedding rings, or hair brushes of the people he's murdered.  One thing you have to say about those guys is that they have stick-to-itiven...

I spent the entire morning sitting in the waiting area at one of Henrico County's courthouses, today.  It's a good thing they call it the "waiting area," because I did a lot of waiting...and watching, and eavesdropping. I do so love to hear other folks talk about their miseries.

I've kind of made a career of studying people. It's a career I haven't gotten paid for, but it's a career, nonetheless. And, I've made an important discovery.

I don't want to come across as some sort of saint, because I'm not. And, while this may be hard to believe, I have plenty of faults. But using profanity is not one of them.

My wife says I've gotten to that point in my life when I tend to tell the same stories over and over. I don't doubt that, but since I so enjoy hearing myself talk, I find no problem with that. And, since I don't remember telling the story before, I get that "first-time" thrill every time I repeat myself.  However, the story, I'm about to tell is one I remember having told in a column in West End's Best magazine a few years ago.

I was doing some shopping today, in Dollar Tree, and I was listening in on a conversation between the shopper in front of me and the clerk at the counter.  As I was listening, it dawned on me that people (including myself) say some really stupid things. Take this shopper.

One thing that many people don't know about me is that I have  tremendous business acumen. I think the fact that my newest car has over 100,000 miles on it, and my only suit, even more, helps to create a wrong impression, that somehow I'm a failure. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Well, it's that time of year when I do something that will seem to many of you to be virtually impossible to do. And yet, I do it annually.  It's my predictions for the coming year.

I'm doing something that's very difficult for me. I'm going to admit something. Yes, I'm going to come right out in front of everyone and tell it like it is.

This new feature on Richmond Navigator has been created just in time for me to do a little complaining. Now, those who know me know that I'm not one to complain, even when I'm in excruciating pain, which I kinda am. But, since I felt that I should ramble about something to kick this thing off, I felt it would only make sense to tell you why I'm in such pain.