Steve the Tomato

I have an uncle named Steve, and he looks like a tomato. He's a big round guy. He's not just fat, his belly pokes out of his body like he's pregnant with triplets. And he's not the jiggly, jolly type of fat, he's just round. Big and round. Even his gums are big and round. They overlap the edge of his teeth like silly putty. His skin is bright red. Red like a...yeah, like a tomato. Honestly, it's like he got really sunburned one day, and then decided he liked that color, and kept his skin in a constant state of burn. I can't really take him seriously, because every time I see him, the theme from VeggieTales plays in my head.

I don't really get along with my uncle, and it doesn't have anything to do with the fact that he looks like a human vegetable (I mean fruit). He's kind of in a cult. If any of my CSUF peeps have had any run ins with the campus group "Christian Students", you'll know what I mean. He's with them. Some of the things that he believes are just so strange to me, and I find myself embarrassed by him sometimes, especially because he claims that his beliefs are not cultish but a truer interpretation of Christianity. Beyond that, he is sooooo stubborn. I once had a conversation with him for over a half hour about a stupid game of poker. He was so obviously wrong, and everyone in the room knew it, but I guess he thought that if he didn't admit defeat he would still be right somehow. This mentality carries over into every aspect of his life. My mom won't even talk to him anymore. My mother is the sweetest, most forgiving and patient person in the world (She's married to my Dad, enough said) and SHE gave up on him. Often enough, I wonder why my aunt Claudia even married him. I guess maybe he was attractive at one point. That, however, is now gone, and he is just this big, stubborn...tomato of a man.

I guess the point of all this really made sense to me this last weekend. My cousin Becky got married last weekend (the day of my graduation), so the whole family packed into three cars and headed out to the sweltering heat of San Bernadino, to go to a crazy cult wedding. Actually, the service wasn't that bad, and the man who is marrying my cousin seems like a nice, mentally stable man. I really didn't expect that. I saw my uncle across the room at the reception, and as he crossed over to say his hellos, I prepared myself to make small talk that didn't involve theology, poker, or fruits that everyone thinks are vegetables. Fortunately, I had a lot of material to talk about, with recent family developments and all. Steve came up, shook my hand, and told me how excited he was to see two more weddings in the family (My sister and my brother) coming up this summer. "All my children are finally married," he said. "So, I guess you're next." I had to laugh (It's better than the other option). I am incurably single, you see. Beyond that, I had just received a bachelor's degree that morning. Marriage at this point would simply be false advertising. I tried to explain this to my uncle, but I mentioned before how stubborn he is. He stopped me in the middle. "Listen," he said. "All you need to do is find a woman that loves the Lord." "Oh crap," I thought. "He wants to talk about God." I further explained that while, yes, that is the top priority, there are other factors to consider, such as compatibility, and common interests. The whole time, he was shaking his head at me. "The only reason anyone can ever get along is the resurrection," he replied, in his all-too-sure-of-himself preacher voice. He put his hand on my shoulder. For a man who walks around with such a glazed over look on his face, Steve has a pretty strong grip. I'll never forget what he said to me. "Take the advice of a loser who somehow made it thirty seven years. I slipped on a banana peel in the first round, and somehow made it up again. and now, look at all of this." He spread his arms out and pointed to the corners of the room, where his wife, his children, and grandchildren were sitting, laughing and playing around. "If I can make it," he said, "You can make it."

I'm not really the type of person who gets super depressed about being single. Not anymore, at least. I figure I'll probably someday meet someone really cool, who has poor taste in men, and we'll go from there. And if not, oh well. Life's too short to waste it complaining and feeling sorry for yourself. And I've been given so much, what right do I have to complain anyway? Even still, I can't deny I was a little jealous of uncle Steve, and what God had given him that night. I wonder what it would feel like to be a husband, then father, then grandfather. He's been those things for longer than I've been alive. I don't think my uncle has the scriptures completely correct. Not by a long shot. Even still, if you look at all that God has given him, and his attitude about receiving it, you cant help but wonder. Maybe God loves my uncle as much as he loves me.

Oh, and I can be pretty stubborn too.