I am often fortunate to wake with my wife's head gently resting on my left shoulder. As we stir, she more often than not will lean back, look down and say with no little contempt, "It's still there."

In 1997, I had a Ram's head tattooed on my shoulder, and my wife is not a fan of tattoos. I was 46 years old. I had wanted a tattoo for a long time, and the question that solved the issue was, "What would I want to be buried with?" (My father was a huge Tar Heel fan and I slipped a small brass Tar Heel bookmark in his coat pocket as he lay in his casket).

I don't ever wear sleeveless shirts, but I'll admit that I have shown it off at parties, in seminars (I'm a professional speaker), and once after dinner at the Angus Barn. Ten years later, I like it even more than when I got it.

At the beach, I've had people send their kids and grandkids over to admire it. I have friends who will come over and roll my sleeve up to show it to other alums and fans. Some of my fraternity brothers swear they'll get one like mine if the Tar Heels ever win a national championship in football. If that happens, I'll get a Tar Heel tattoo my wife really won't like.

--Mike Collins, Wake Forest