***WARNING***

The international guild of humor writers has determined this column to be more of a “rant” than light-hearted, gentle jesting. You should not read this column if you are already annoyed at Iowa State University, drunk or in possession of eggs, toilet paper or high-powered weapons.

An interesting telephone conversation was relayed to me by my boss the other day. I thought I would share it with you, Iowa State. It seems that the ISU Foundation was calling various alumni and asking them for money, which seems reasonable. They ended up calling the father of my boss and asking if he’d like to donate $500. “Goodness,” he said, “that’s quite a bit of money, I don’t think I’d like to donate that much. How about $20?”

“Well,” the Foundation representative said, “that’s very nice, but the minimum donation is $25.”

“I see,” said my boss’s father, “I have $20 today, so how would that be?”

“Thank you,” the Foundation representative said very politely, “but we are not interested in $20. Have a nice day!” and at this point the Foundation representative ended the call.

What an intriguing stance, I thought to myself. I then wondered out loud how it was that the university had so much money as to be able to turn down a donation offer. I started coming up with possible ways…

Maybe, I thought, the university is gaining so much ticket revenue from the men’s baseball, swimming, and diving teams that it doesn’t need to accept money from those willing to donate it. Then I remembered that they all got cut because of funding.

Maybe, I surmised, the university was planning on more students attending next year, because of smaller class sizes, ease in scheduling and good teaching by a staff that wasn’t worried about staff cuts. Then I remembered that class sizes will go up, there will be fewer sections of classes, and there are staff cuts. I recalled this is also because of funding.

Maybe, I shot from the hip, the alumni would be wowed at this year’s Veishea celebration and throw money at the university in lieu of a sugar high brought on by cherry pies and candy thrown from floats. Then I remembered Veishea was canceled without giving any thought to my proposal of how to fix it involving multiple beer tents. I will be writing this proposal, by the way, just as soon as I get bored in class.

In an attempt to work the system, I attempted to pay my U-bill in increments of $20, hoping that they would be rejected and I wouldn’t have to pay. Incredibly, the payments were accepted. I truly felt honored that the university would find my money so valuable as to accept it in such a small amount. I can only attribute this to my prestigious position as an Iowa State Daily opinion columnist. I have never felt so special.

I was further shocked when I purchased a soda at Onions with a $5 bill. The Onions people not only accepted my money, but even gave me change back. As I was feeling so important, I told one of my professors that I was Jon “Highbeams” Crosbie and that I didn’t need to take the rest of my exams for the year. You can do this sort of thing when you are that important.

I finally landed on the university being able to say “no” to a donation because tuition keeps rising. This, of course, made me feel spectacular about going to Iowa State and cemented my resolve to donate just as much money as I possibly can. My first donation will put me in the “Campanile Guild” donation club, when I donate $50,000 worth of pennies, drop them right by Alumni Hall, and drive away with a warm feeling of satisfaction.