TOMATOES & TUXEDOES

It was a Saturday morning, and two disparate events conflated for me. A friend gave me a bag of fresh-picked tomatoes from her garden, and an hour later I was watching some tuxedoed young men gathering at our church. The tomatoes spoke to me of how we can evolve from ignorance to bliss, and the tuxedoes of how we can evolve from one bliss to another ....!

When the Europeans first discovered the tomato in South America, they looked at its strange innards and drew the strange conclusion that it was a poisoned fruit. Bad, vile, inappropriate for eating. Later, however, they discovered that their discovery was actually a bliss. Anyone who's bitten into a juicy rich tomato right from the vine knows exactly -- and sublimely -- what I mean. One has to wonder if this rather than the apple is what seduced Adam and Eve (you'll notice they are paired in due deference to todayt's call for equality of the sexes).

Savoring fresh tomatoes (in contrast to the cosmetically-enhanced red stuff in the stores) is a gift we might never had known, had the frightened ignorance of the European conquistadors remained smugly in place. God not only gave us tomatoes to enjoy, but a brain to distinguish between a fear and a joy. Score one for God and another for his creatures!

Why, though, did those tuxedoed young men make me think the same thought? The distinction between fear and joy? Well when you think about it -- as I did munching on my organic tomatoes -- the comparisons are rather prominent. Young men today thrive in a world of bachelor bliss never before known. The rules of society have been so loosened, that a young buck can have everything a married man can -- sex and the good life -- without the traditional pre-requisites of marriage, mortgage and kids. So -- like they always say in Ireland -- why should a guy commit until at least 40 or 50? If then!

Now it seemed to this casual observer that these young tuxedoed bachelors had learned early on that their fears might end be disguised joys. That marrying the girl of their dreams was not locking them into to a life of domestic servility, but rather one of shared joys. Commitment is not actually a bad word, nor is faithfulness. They just went out of temporary style sever since the postwar 20s and then again in the 60s.

Too bad, really, because respect for the institution of marriage must have endured for as many centuries as it did for a good reason. True, the male of virtually all species seems to have an inherent proclivity for multiple mating which, in our case, has gone by the peculiar name of "freedom." But I had to suspect these tuxedoed fellows had learned early on what I had. And that is that freedom to do anything is often no more than freedom from everything! You are as free as a thistle blowing in the capricious winds -- no point, no direction, no purpose.

Oh, the botanist says they do have a purpose. But when you reflect on it, fertilizing whatever comes your windy way, isn't much of a purpose