A Foolproof Plan to Lose a Wife—Legally!

It has long been the custom of the civilized, when faced with a difficulty, to find a way to make it someone else’s problem. That is how Nevada made a name for itself in the divorce trades. Now, in a stroke of pure legislative genius, the esteemed members of Congress have devised a method by which a husband, should he find his matrimonial bonds growing tiresome, might rid himself of a wife with all the ease of misplacing an old hat.

The newly minted Safeguard American Voter Eligibility (SAVE) Act proposes to protect our most cherished institution—voting—by ensuring that no unqualified person wields the power of the ballot. To accomplish this noble goal, the Act would require that all voters produce documentary proof of citizenship, a task about as simple as finding a hen’s tooth for millions of Americans.

Consider, for example, the plight of the married woman. For reasons beyond all comprehension, many have changed their names over the years, typically after entering into that peculiar arrangement known as wedlock.

This small matter of name-changing, long thought to be the harmless folly of love-struck maidens, has now been exposed as a dire threat to democracy. For how–one must ask, can a woman prove she is the same person she was before she had the good sense, or misfortune—to marry?

Voting rights groups, always eager to stir up trouble where none exists, claim that this legislation will disenfranchise millions of Americans, especially those unfortunate enough to have been born under one name but now answer to another. They point to the outrageous inconvenience of acquiring proper documentation that involves navigating the labyrinthine corridors of government bureaucracy—a feat akin to hunting a wild goose in a snowstorm.

The honorable Representative Chip Roy of Texas, a man of little sound judgment but unparalleled confidence, assures the public that this law will not, under any circumstance, exclude any citizen from voting. It merely asks them to engage in a harmless bit of administrative sport—tracking down original birth certificates, marriage licenses, and various other parchments that may or may not have gotten devoured by time, fire, or an overzealous spring cleaning. If a few good citizens get lost along the way, that is a small price to pay for the grand assurance that something already illegal will remain illegal.

Naturally, critics remain unmoved. They lament the hardship this will impose upon women, rural folk, and other unfortunate souls who lack a fireproof file cabinet containing every document issued since their first breath. Some, with their usual taste for hyperbole, even suggest that the bill’s most delightful feature is its unintended (or, some whisper, entirely intended) effect of making it exceedingly difficult for a married woman to vote–at all.

In all fairness, the Act does provide for those who find themselves in such a predicament. States will get the solemn duty of establishing a process to remedy discrepancies–a task they will undertake with the speed and efficiency for which government offices are universally known. Those who fail to comply must accept their fate: no proof, no vote. A woman’s right to democracy, it seems, extends only as far as her ability to outwit bureaucracy.

Thus, those longing for the carefree days of bachelorhood may soon discover an unexpected benefit of this legislation. If a wife, once so devoted and lovely, has become a shade too chatty, a touch too opinionated, or, heaven forbid, a persistent advocate for her rights, then perhaps the easy course of action is to encourage her to exercise her civic duty.

Send her down to the courthouse, instruct her to register to vote, and let the fine men of government do the rest. Should she return triumphant, documents in hand, at least you will know you married a woman of remarkable perseverance.

But should she vanish into the void of rejected paperwork and bureaucratic nonsense, there are worse fates than being legally bound to one who no longer exists on paper.