A champion of flowers insists they're not just for special days

Just about every aspect of home decorating has its celebrity champion. Food has its Martha Stewart, furniture its Todd Oldham, product design its Karim Rashid.

But who speaks up for flowers?

America's Flower Man does.

Possibly you didn't know that America has a Flower Man? Indeed it does, and he contends that his services are sorely needed in a nation that undervalues floral arrangements in everyday life.

''We have, in this culture, the feeling that they're expensive and a luxury item," said Dale Rohman, a flower advocate from St. Louis who was in Boston last week to demystify the art of flower arranging at a Say It With Flowers Luncheon at a downtown hotel. The event was a benefit coordinated by Red Sox wives Shonda Schilling and Dawn Timlin to raise money for services for those affected by ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig's disease.

''We think of flowers as something you save for special days like weddings or births," Rohman said in an interview. But this, he argued, is wrong, wrong, wrong. ''My philosophy is, flowers add beauty to our lives. They are such an expression of love and hope. Do I have flowers in my house and do I pick them up and take them with me into the family room when we go in there to watch TV? I do. And do I pick them up and take them into my bedroom at night? I do." He said that his wife, whom he has anointed America's Flower Woman, has more than once inquired whether he takes them into the bathroom with him when he gets up in the middle of the night.

So does he?

''You know, I'm not going to tell," America's Flower Man said coyly. ''But you know, some people take newspapers and books . . ."

It's clear that the dapper, tuxedoed Flower Man, 67, is as much entertainer as florist. He had a retail flower shop in St. Louis from 1967 until 1992 and still operates a freelance floral design business there with his son. ''When my kids were all grown, I decided to do something else, and I monikered myself as America's Flower Man," he said. ''I researched it and it was available." The rest is floral history: His website, www.americasflowerman.com, describes him as an ''entertainment expert" and ''charismatic speaker" who has appeared on HGTV and the Discovery Channel, among other venues.

But to his disappointment, Rohman acknowledges that efforts to drum up interest in a TV show dedicated to flower arranging have not been successful. ''The vibes I hear is that it would be too limited. But to me, it's not limited," he said. Yet it speaks to his point that there is a stubborn antifloral prejudice in this country.

''People will say to me, ''I love flowers but, you know, they just die. What I say to that is: 'The moment lingers forever.' "

He enumerates several reasons for what he perceives as American indifference to bouquets. He blames the floral retail industry for one, for ''pushing the idea that flowers are for funerals more than any other occasion." He cites the high cost of cut flowers for keeping Americans away from flower shops. He thinks there's an elitism in the professional flower world, and ''I have to be perfectly honest, I blame Martha Stewart for that," he said, dropping his voice to a near-whisper, as though Stewart might just overhear him. ''She makes it very intimidating: 'I just found this darling little da-da-da in Europe and it cost da-da-da.' My philosophy is: Look around your house or go to garage sales to find containers to work with."

Also, there's nothing wrong with buying flowers at supermarkets, he adds; they're often inexpensive and the quality can be good. Forget the kind of snobbishness he sees in St. Louis, where hostesses order arrangements from ''particular flower shops, and don't they immediately want their friends to know?"

There is nothing snobbish about Rohman; he even champions underdog flowers, including the dandelion and the sunflower -- his favorite flower because ''it used to be considered a weed." (He said he sports a sunflower tattoo on the back of his leg, a gift from his daughter on his 60th birthday.)

''In my mind," he said, ''there is no such thing as a weed. Some of the most wonderful things grow by the side of the road and are free."

He's a firm believer in democratizing flower design and encouraging ordinary people to become what he calls ''kitchen sink florists." With the proper trade secrets, which he's happy to impart in his workshops, on his website, and in his booklet, ''Top Tips for the Kitchen Sink Florist," the average flowerphobe can turn out a perfectly serviceable arrangement or centerpiece, Rohman maintains.

''I say there are no rules, though if you believe the people who belong to garden clubs, yes, there are rules," he said. ''If you are happy [with your arrangement] and it's unique and unexpected and your friends come over and say ''I didn't know you could do that," I'd say that having a vision and seeing the reality is the reward. That's what it's all about."

It also seems to be about overcoming a pervasive fear of flowers, judging from the reaction at the workshop he conducted in Boston. He led about 250 people, mostly women, through the process of making a grand bouquet with an urn, floral foam, and an assortment of common and uncommon flowers and other floral elements, including Chinese millet, bear grass, ornamental cabbage, dahlias, magnolia foliage, and apples. There was a sizeable contingent of Red Sox wives in attendance, and not one of those interviewed admitted to having ever made a bouquet.

Rohman seemed to sense the low experience level, leaving nothing to chance when he started the workshop. (Step One: ''Take the apples out of the pot.")

''I'm a virgin at flower arrangements," said Tiffany Ortiz. ''I have no concept."

''I think we're all aimless," Timlin said. ''He's telling us exactly where to stick everything. I have no clue." She added: ''I feel like a big goofball."

Mr. Flower Man persevered, entertaining the guests with flower dos and don'ts (how to make your own preservative, how to keep flowers from wilting prematurely).

''The next thing I'm going to pass out is the bear grass," he announced, as assistants scurried around with handfuls of long stalks.

''I thought it was green onions," Kelly Olerud said to Timlin.

Olerud apologized that she's ''not creative," but loves flowers and was having fun anyway.

''I have no concept," Kristin Mirabelli confessed, arranging her dahlias. ''It's a good thing to learn, but I still think flowers are one of those things it's better to buy."