Day of wonder

Here's a lovely picture. It's an Iris from our back yard, one of dozens of yellow and purple irises in bloom at our place right now. A couple of years ago, Teri's colleague Jade thinned out her flower bed and gave some of her bulbs to Teri. These passalong plants grew strong last year but didn't flower. As you can see, this year they are spectacular.

Ginger, another of Teri's friends, also thinned her own herd recently and Teri planted those bulbs last weekend. I wonder if they will also prosper and bloom and what they will look like when they do. We'll find out in a couple of years.

I recently sent a message in a bottle and now it's bobbing gently across the cyber sea. I wonder if it will be found and returned to me.

Sending a message out to sea in a bottle is a hopeful and whimsical act. I've only sent the metaphorical kind, but I think I would automatically like anyone who has done this for real.

Teri is away for the next couple of nights as her University of Alabama students compete in the annual collegiate advertising competition. Well over a hundred schools participate in this event. You've probably never heard of it, but it's a big deal in Teri's world.

Students from across the nation are given the same case study for a real company and then develop advertising campaigns based on the guidelines in the case study. This year the sponsor is State Farm. Each team creates a book that outlines their campaign and then pitches it live in front of a panel of judges in district competition.

The winners of the sixteen districts go on to the national finals in June.

Teri has been the ad team advisor at three different universities for something like 20 years. She's a coach whose team plays only one game a year, and if they win they get to go to a second playoff game.

She's very good at this. Over the years, her teams have won the district competition a bunch of times, and placed in the national finals several times (last year her team came in second in the nation). Once her team won it all.

I'm reasonably certain no other ad team advisor has the kind of winning track record Teri does. She's kind of like the Bear Bryant or Coach K of her sport. Now if we could just figure out a way to get 90,000 people to come see her students play, we'd be rolling in dough. It's unfortunate she is the best there is at an obscure endeavor.

Her team competes tomorrow. Wish them luck. I wonder how they'll do.

I don't thrive when Teri is gone, which gives my wife immense secret pleasure. She likes the idea of me at home alone pining away for her. She never says it outright, but we've been married long enough for me to tell what she's thinking.

When Teri's away, I transition into the lifestyle of an unkempt hermit. I hide away from the world and tend to ignore personal hygiene for the duration. For reasons I don't fully understand, I also go into housecleaning mode when she's gone. When I know she's close to home on Saturday night, I'll shave off the stubble and grab a quick shower. When she walks in the door, Teri will find a home cooked meal, a spotless house and a well-groomed husband waiting for her.

I like to be alone sometimes, and this is my last chance to be a hermit for a while. I'm about to turn into a very social animal. Next week I'll be partying with 50,000 of my closest friends at Jazz Fest in New Orleans and the week after that I'll be sailing glassy (I hope) seas with my bride.

I enjoy the solitude, but I also like being with friends. I wonder why that is.