The morning air was laden with the scent of milkweed, but it was the common rhododendron in full bloom along my driveway which captured my attention. In this case the word 'common,' to which I refer the flower, is with praise because having lots of them is considered welcomed. In contrast, this evening as my husband and I enjoyed quiet conversation on our deck, my husband recounted a run-in with a particularly irksome lady. "She's plain common," he commented. To which I grimaced for I knew he did not flatter her nor did he want her to replicate en masse.