On what may have been the most perfect Tuesday afternoon in the history of weather, the only question I have on my mind is: Why are there 300 people in a line outside the TSC?

Oh, it may not have been 300. Whatever the number, they were five across and waiting patiently. What event was happening in good ol’ Logan to make so many people wait in such a massive line? Was it the line for Osmond Brothers tickets? Miley Cyrus? Do Utahns wait in line for concert tickets?

Maybe it was a job fair for English majors. Doubtful. The new Wal-Mart is already fully staffed. It could have been the line to apply to be lifeguard in the HPER. Impossible. Everyone knows the lifeguards are hired out of prison work-release programs. I thought it could have been the Yolanda Flores Niemann dunk tank. When I did not see any of the HASS professors in line, I ruled that out as a possibility.

The curiosity overcame me, and I levitated through the bulging throng to the front of the line. What was the cause of this mass of humanity waiting in line? Free ice cream. What? Free ice cream? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

I mean, maybe a gallon of ice cream would have been worth a conspicuous amount of time in line. But, the scoopers under the tent were giving out those cocktail cups. Barely two scoops. Why in Hades would anyone wait over 30 minutes in line for a small cup of ice cream? The guys who waited in soup lines during The Great Depression got more in their bowls than these practitioners of ice cream zealotry got, and they were actually starving to death!

Insane.

This is where the social disconnect between myself and my fellow Aggies comes to the fore. Isn’t it the oldheads who are supposed to be patient and the youngins who are noted for not waiting on anything? Nearly everyone in that line was the traditional college age – whatever that means.

The point – and I am not entirely sure I have one – is that the act of waiting in a long line for a substantial amount of time for something you can purchase for $2 in a fraction of time is flat out illogical. Perhaps there is no social disconnect at all. And this is certainly not a regional thing that I can use to scathingly insult Utahns for going to great lengths to receive a product without opening their notoriously tight purse strings. This is just a bunch of young people waiting in line for free ice cream for absolutely no good reason whatsoever. Well, except to eat ice cream ... for free.

Now, I fully admit that a man of my considerable bulk (RE: I’m fat), talking about the vexing effect of waiting for free ice cream is self-parody. I am sure that the moderators of a certain nameless Web site that takes shots at my columns will fall over in glee in lambasting me. I will risk that. Despite how insignificant this column is, there are times when you scoff at relevance to call out 300 people for a mesmerizing lack of judgment and self-awareness.

To sum up my argument, allow me to relate a story to you. Like Utah, Pennsylvania only allows liquor to be bought in state run stores. The price of liquor is considerably cheaper in New Jersey, which has privately owned liquor stores. On more than one occasion I drove with my father to New Jersey to buy liquor. Taking in a full reckoning of gas, the tolls to cross the bridge, the taxes New Jersey levies on the liquor and the time spent driving there and back, the savings seemed to be minimal. I asked my father if he agreed. He did. I asked him why we did it if we weren’t saving any money. “We got to spend time together,” he told me.

Cheap booze and free ice cream. Logic be damned if they allow families and friends quality time together.

Harry Caines in a senior re-entry student in interdiciplinary studies from Philidelphia. Unconventional Wisdom appears every Monday. Comments may be left at www.aggietownsquare.com or sent to chiefsalsa@gmail.com