I called attention in my last post to the strange serif on the first ‘U’ of the new ‘UVU’ logo.  My annoyance was that it ruined the reflection of the two ‘U’s’ through the V.  Apparently that first serif is meant to invoke patriotism for all Utah citizens - that small notch creates the shape of our State!

Hidden Meaning of Current UVU Logo:

If that isn’t amazing enough, the second U creates the shape of Colorado, where UVU hopes to relocate one day.

After my post, to my astonishment, the president of UVU (Lester Tessy Higgenbothom) got in contact with me.

He said to me, “Dallin, help me restore the reflexive property to the UVU logo.”

I told him, “Tess, not only does the logo need reflection, it needs spirit.  It needs fury.  It needs the face of true-blue loyalty.  It may even need a new name.”

The New UVU Logo:

UVSC is now UVU; that’s just great.  Way to go.  But every time I see someone sporting a UVU t-shirt with your new logo actual vomit chunks come into my mouth.

What in-the-name-of-all-that’s-holy is that little serif doing on that first U?  If it has meaning it’s occult, and nobody I’ve talked to “gets” it.  If it doesn’t mean anything, this is designer sabotage. Why didn’t they commit the same crime to the other U?  At least then we could understand it was your impaired stylistic choice.

Could someone please tell me the magical meaning of that disgusting knob?  If there’s not one, UVU students and faculty should form a mob, apprehend the guilty designer, and beat him with his own keyboard and mouse.

Last night at Albertson’s the Salvation army was ringing their bell in the cold. I felt bad, and wanted to donate, but I never carry change. That’s when I realized what I would do if I were homeless.

Huge bag of cheap cereal and a Tupperware bucket of sugar.

I remember walking along a busy road in the tropical costal city of Salvador, Brazil and wishing a truck would hit me. I was new on the mission, and the area I was serving in was called “The Staff House” because there resided the mission leadership, with the exception of the president and his wife. Our area was to be an example for the entire mission. If the Staff could not baptize, how could they encourage others to? It was the responsibility of my companion and me to fulfill their goals. On top of the already rigorous mission rules, they gave us grueling demands, such as extra fasting days, waking up early, leaving early, taking a 30 minute lunch with no brakes, and baptizing scores of people.

Besides all that I was slowly starving to death. There was a mission rule that you could only buy food one day a week; a rule I realize now probably granted an exception for starvation. But the one bit of advice you constantly hear for 19 years before you leave on a mission is, “Obey the rules!” On that one day a week I would go to the markets and buy expensive and delicious food: yogurt, cookies, guarana, and a wide assortment of Brazilian fruits. That day, and part of the next, I would feast like a king. But it took me a while to realize why the more experienced Elders put nothing edible in the communal fridge, because it was a free-for-all. The rest of the week I was forced to ration what little bread I bought.

That’s why I wanted a truck to hit me that day. I was exhausted, in every form and variety of exhaustion. I could only think about food. Add to that the fact that September 11^th was only a few months ago, and my Christmas was hot and lonely.  Suddenly, a drunk driver actually slammed into my companion’s left arm and sent his scripture case flying into the air. I watched the car in slow motion as it plowed into the group of people walking in front of us, scattering them over his windshield. I recall a woman who took the brunt of the hit appearing like a rag-doll, spinning and whirling in the air until she crashed on the pavement.

That next morning was the lowest point in my life up to then. My grandpa taught me from many summers on his ranch to work hard and never complain. Nobody knew what I was suffering. But I still got up early, studied and prayed, ate a quick breakfast, dressed in my white shirt and tie, and sat on the bench next to the door to put my shoes on. As I slipped on the black shoe I felt something substantial within. I took it off and found a piece of chocolate. It was cube shaped and wrapped in gold foil   That random act of kindness was like a steroid shot of happiness. There was no exhaustion or hunger that day because all I could think about was how nice and thoughtful someone must have been to place a piece of chocolate in my shoe. It was an answer to my prayers and motivation in sugar form. Some would argue that charity – giving something that is unearned – isn’t a good idea. But something as inconsequential and unsubstantial as a small piece of chocolate completely changing my life for ever is evidence enough to the positive results of charity.

New Years Day was that week, and my New Year’s resolution was to do a random act of kindness every day. It was one of the few New Year’s resolutions I actually followed through on. I recorded most of them every day on a calendar which I still have today. I thought if that small piece of chocolate could brighten my life as it did, then I was going to share it with others. I would leave chocolates in shoes, cookie packages under couch cushions, and candies under the newspaper. I like to think of that year long accomplishment as what will be the deciding factor as to whether I am admitted into heaven or not. The actual cube I found in my shoe on that morning I placed atop a stack of books on my desk, so that every day it could remind me to pass charity on to others.

Many months later I was doing ‘splits’ with a young man in the ward. My companion and his temporary volunteer were lucky enough to be in the area of our lunch appointment, so we had to eat in our apartment. While he began boiling water for some Top Ramen, I rested at my desk. Very hungry, I looked over at my trophy. My mouth watered. Whatever rationalization my mind conjured up, it wasn’t stronger than my stomach. I unwrapped it quickly and popped it into my mouth. I took a bite, made a bitter face, and spit it onto the table. It tasted like rotten and concentrated salt. It was brown like chocolate, but smelled like beef stew. Upon further examination I realized it was a cube of beef bullion. It then hit me that the stash of bullion cubes in Staff House was in a cupboard directly over the shoes. Most likely, someone had accidentally knocked it out of the cupboard and into my shoe. That whole year, that major turning point in my mission and life, was all due to a random accident.

Either God directed it in my shoe, or he was laughing when I began distributing chocolate like The Santa Wonka. Even so, the fact that an act (or accident) so small and easy caused such a positive effect is reason enough to substantiate the idea of charity, and inspire its practice.

By force of habit I pick the leaves or branches or little round things as I walk past trees and bushes.  Given time you can always tell which trees and bushes I walk past because of the bare branches within my reach.  Last night it was quite dark as my dog and I approached a random tree in the park.  I subconsciously raised my hand to snatch a leaf.  Like a Venus Fly Trap I closed my hand on the first touch of something, only I hadn’t quite made it to the tree yet; whatever I caught was flying, or suspended on a thin web.  It was substantial too, not like a gnat or mosquito; it was round as a small marble for the split second before I smashed it and juices spilled onto my fingers.  Either a black widow or large horse fly I thought.  It struck that in the millions of times I’ve been subconsciously picking leaves, nothing that crazy had ever happened.  I said, “Oh my gosh.”

As I was wiping the insect guts off I read the words on a laminated banner hung on the hedge to my right: “Will You Marry Me Danille?”  I turn to the left and there’s this guy on one knee proposing to Danille.  “Oh my gosh.”

I’m thinking, “How on earth could these once-in-a-lifetime events happen simultaneously?”  I turn the corner and begin walking east along the south end of Kiwanis park.  On the adjacent road a Hummer passes.  Not an H2 or H3, but an old respectable Hummer.  Part of me wants to catalog this Hummer with the other two bizarre events, but I decide against it.  The next car which passes is an Audi convertible.  You see plenty of these, but not when they’re screaming at 90mph in a quiet neighborhood.  Still these two ‘automobile occurrences’ weren’t enough to grant acceptance into “club crazy”.  Just then I said, “Oh my GOSH!”  A brand new silver Ferrari came from behind and cruised up the hill.  That solidified it.  This was without a doubt the most fantastical night.

I approached the two church parking lots which mark the extremity of my walk when I said without hesitation or premeditation, “Oh my gosh.”  I saw a couple walking toward me which I had seen at the first leg of my walk.  They had two small dogs making quite a racket in the simple act of breathing; probably young Pugs or British Bulldogs, but they were so loud and humorous I actually said, “Those dogs are loud” to the couple as I walked past.  They smiled and we parted ways, never to see each other again.  Because who on planet earth would choose the exact elongated rectangle path as mine, and walk it clockwise to my counterclockwise on the same night?  Yet there they were walking towards me in the parking lights.

Suddenly, a blood curdling scream came from the giant wooded lot south of the two churches.  “Oh my gosh” I said in fear.  I approached and stood silently, hoping to hear “Over here!” or “Help me!”  The couple with the dogs heard it too, but we both decided they must be kidding or dead, and we parted ways.  I smiled at their noisy dogs. 

Completely perplexed at the odds of such weirdness, I approach the final stretch before my house.  On the sidewalk between a patch of trees and a parked truck I hear this wild and ferocious hiss.  “Oh my gosh,” I shout.  A cat was under the car, and when my dog Allie approached, the cat attacked.  Not necessarily something crazy and rare, but another genuine “Oh my gosh” added to the tally. 

Ear Plugs

I would leave this post as is, but I know some people will take it the wrong way. The sound doesn’t disappear, it just goes from AC/DC to Mozart. Here’s two examples: at night when they’re sick, and when you’re driving. I recommend keeping a stash of earplugs in your nightstand and both your cars.

A really nice old couple walks around the neighborhood and stops to talk with everyone. The guy has this look on his face; like a mix between Santa Clause and Socrates. I’d trust him with my newborn. For all I know the guy beats his wife and drags her around to impress his neighbors, but one glance and you think he’s Gandhi’s inspiration. Can someone fake that? If you want to, like I do, here’s my neighbors mystic spell for the appearance of wisdom:

• Smile
• Be Kind
• Be Intelligent
• Optional: Be old.

Construction of the world’s largest and most luxurious sleigh has finally been completed, allowing cruisers at long last to have balcony views of the North and South Poles.

“Land has always been trouble for other cruise lines,” says Captain Vanderehoofen of the virgin 5000 suite ‘Arctic Gem,’ “but we would watch such classics as ‘White Fang’ and say to ourselves, ‘We can do that.’”

And they have. Carnival’s newest “cruise- sleigh” grants stunning and upclose access to the most endangered and fragile environments on earth, without skimping on luxury, entertainment, and fine-dining.

Avid cruisers Clarke and Dawn Johnson of Houston were on the maiden voyage. “We were getting so sick of whales and dolphins,” said Dawn. “This cruise is definitely different. The buffets were probably the best ever.”

Clarke added, “Wednesday night’s show was an Eskimo ballet. Then we passed right over a real Eskimo village the next day. Very exciting! We’ve already planned our trip for next year.’

Environmentalist Jeremy Green warned of the impact of this mammoth sleigh, “We’re seeing endangered species drop dead at the mere sight. The few survivors fall into the deep crevasse which the ship leaves behind.”

Captain Vanderhoofen disagrees. “Believe it or not, we are greener than a Toyota Prius. The fuel for our crown sleigh is zero emissions: nearly 30,000 hungry wolves. They are self sustaining too; preying on the local penguin population.”

Controversial or not, that’s not stopping cruisers from all around the world to take this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; the sleigh is booked 16 years in advance. “We’re building 18 more sleighs just to keep up with demand,” said the over-joyed Carnival CEO Marcus Pierce. “By 2013 we’ll have overland sleigh routs in the Himalayas, Andes, and Alps. In El Niño years we could go from New York to Seattle.”