COLUMN:Thankful for the crows and other ISU wonders

Dustin Kass

With Thanksgiving rapidly approaching, my mind drifts to that first gathering of the pilgrims and Indians who first started the fundamental American tradition of consuming enough food to feed a small village in some Third World country and then sprawling out on the couch to watch football. This was when American settlers were still on fairly decent terms with the people who lived here first, before settlers began systematically stealing all the Indians’ land and being good neighbors by donating blankets carrying diseases from the New World to wipe out large numbers of our darker-skinned friends. But don’t think about this great injustice and slaughter on Turkey Day, lest you are unable to stuff yourself.

Anyway, as our week of freedom from the rusty chains of forced enlightenment looms a precious five days away, I feel compelled to compose a list of things that I’m thankful for. I mean, you have your usual basic elements: life, family, love, Twinkies, not being dead. However, I think many ISU students are missing some biggies and don’t even know it.

* The crows: While they are loud and can make us duck for cover when they are startled and it starts sounding like it’s raining on the clear, sunny day — you would miss them if they were gone. What would everyone complain about? Without the crows, all we could focus our attention on is tuition, and we all know that isn’t going to help. So, instead, the crows are the object of our animosity. We dream of ways to rid ourselves of these evil creatures, from crow hunting to my first idea involving large amounts of rice and conveniently placed water to my second idea of training the rabbit population on campus to eat crow and vice versa.

* DPS: Again, these “pests” can be rather annoying and they have cost me nearly $500 since I first came to Ames three falls ago, but — where was I going with this? Oh, they’re actually something to thankful for. They didn’t vigorously patrol the campus parking lots and delight in giving students parking tickets, you would miss the joy associated with parking illegally for a time and not getting a ticket.

* CyRide: They take you places if you show them your ISUCard. Granted, whenever you get where you’re headed, you end up unintentionally physically assaulting several classmates to make your way through the mass of bodies to the nearest exit doors.

*ÿSnow fences: It seems inconvenient to have to walk around the fences on the sidewalks, but it makes sense. Sidewalks are for people to walk on. We can’t have people walking on the grass. In fact, we would prefer it if you didn’t lie on the grass, play Frisbee on the grass, study on the grass, or even breathe in the general direction of the grass. This is one of the most beautiful campuses in the country, but it won’t be if you’re moseying across the grass all the time! Remember, the grass is for display purposes only.

* Lake Laverne: We have a lake on campus. How could you not be thankful? Of course, very few students are willing to risk the various rashes, lesions and random infections that will inevitably result from touching any water from the lake, but still it’s good to have. Plus, where would the swans go if there was no lake? Iowa State would be the laughing stock of the country, the campus with the swans who lived in the Hub. Ridiculous.

* The Board of Regents: While it may seem like you are in debt and wondering whether you can keep going to school here and will spend the first 12 years of your post-college life paying off your loans, think about all those nasty decisions you would have to make if you actually had money. You would have to potentially worry about meals involving meat, fruits, and vegetables, instead of targeting them on a rotating basis. (“I’ll have a can of tuna tonight, an apple in the morning, and maybe some peas for lunch tomorrow. Yum.”) Also, it’s a statistical certainty that you can only get robbed if you have something that can be stolen. The result: You’d be afraid to wander the poorly lit sections of campus alone late at night.

Dustin Kass

is a junior in journalism

and mass communication from Dubuque.