Ticket To Ride

My fellow Americans, my long marital nightmare is over.

Well, at least the divorce has been granted.

It was pretty easy. I showed up at the court house at 8:30 and sat in a hallway with a few women who were glad to be getting rid of their men. We were all there for uncontested divorces, with no spouses present.

A very attractive woman was there with her stack of papers. She explained that her husband left a few years ago and has since remarried. So she thought it wise to divorce him.

Another woman was divorcing her husband who couldn't be there because he was in prison.

Most of their stories were much more interesting than mine, so it was entertaining to sit there.

All of our cases were heard and closed within a half an hour. I was last because they had lost my file. But when I got up there, I only had to answer some simple questions verifying my address and such. Then, to my surprise, my lawyer asked me to say why I was getting divorced, and he added with emphasis that I should be brief.

I stumbled for a second as I tried to boil it all down to something simple. And in the end, all I could say was that we didn't get along and problems had arisen from her new friends... and boyfriends.

The whole reason is much more complex, but when the judge heard "boyfriends" an understanding look came across his face and he seemed satisfied. I didn't even have to go into the whole making-out in a bar story.

The judge also asked me to verify that this was my first marriage. Yes, it was. And that this was her first marriage.

"No, your honor, this was only her third," I added as if to say that she had been in this room before. Again, he seemed to understand and I think he even smiled a little.

The judge was satisfied. He signed the papers that I paid my lawyer to prepare, and I was out of there. Once I got my copy, I walked out into a very beautiful sunny day, down the sidewalk, away from it all. In my hands I had a heavy sheet of paper that they gave me. It is blue, has a gold seal on it, and is suitable for framing. It is a certificate attesting that "the marriage is dissolved." What will I do with this?


Back at home, nothing is different. She might not even know about it until her copy arrives. I watched TV in the basement and my ex-wife did something upstairs.

I don't know how I feel about it. I suppose it all depends on what time of the day it is.

On the one hand, it is nice to get this part over, on the other hand it is very sad that she never agreed to make an effort to fix anything. And of course, I am angry that I am so much deeper in debt and that my retirement has been halved, causing me to work an extra 15 years.


Still, another door opens when one closes, it is a new chapter, and what goes around eventually comes around to soak you again.

I like what Groucho Marx wrote once to fill a spot in the stage version of Animal Crackers:

Did you ever sit and ponder, as you walk along the strand,
that life's a bitter battle at the best.
And if you only knew it you would lend a helping hand,
then every man could meet the final test.
The world is but a stage, my friend,
and life's but a game,
and how you play is all that matters in the end.
But whether a man is right or wrong,
a woman gets the blame,
and your mother is your dog's best friend.
Then up came mighty Casey,
and strode up to the bat,
and Sheridan was fifty miles away.
For it takes a heap of loving to make a home like that,
on the road to where the flying fishes play.
So be a real life Pagliac' and laugh,
Clown, laugh.

(He wrote this to see if audiences actually listen to the actors.)