For 31 years, four months and seven days I've basked in the rapture of marital bliss, a state of ecstasy interrupted only every day or so by a not-always-so-gentle reminder from my bride about a promise I purportedly made before our wedding.

I don't really remember promising her a house at the beach, but Tybee swears on everything she finds holy (which is virtually everything) that I did. And looking back, she's probably right. You know, whatever it took. . .

All of which is why I wrote the book I'm pushing with the blog. If enough of you guys buy ACC Basketball Book of Fame I can get Tybee her house at the beach and maybe, just maybe, at long last get her off my back. Buy three or four of them, and we'll even invite you down for the weekend.

Just don't expect to see Tybee unless you go down to the surf. She parks herself there at the break of dawn and has to be dragged kicking and screaming back to the house after the sun's gone down.

My real dream is to buy a beautiful seaside cottage at Emerald Isle, maybe even next door to one owned by Dave and Lynn Odom. And if Coach Odom gets fed up with all the racket emanating from our place at all hours of the day and night, he'll have himself at least partially to blame.

He wrote the foreword to my book.

Hope to see everyone down at the book launch party Blair Publishing is throwing downtown at the Community Arts Cafe (4th and Spruce) this Wednesday. The fun starts at 5:30 and roars til 7, in plenty of time for us old folks to get our proper rest.