Don't Take My Wife - Please

I will never forget the summer of 2007.

She wore a simple white gown and a glow like the moon – soft, illuminating the night. We were married beneath two magnolia tress by a reverend named Fish who wore shoes adorned with colorful flames. We had dinner with all of our friends and family in the entire world; everyone we knew and cared about was under one summer sky. We left six hours later for Mexico, Belize and Grand Cayman. The jungles of mountainous bamboo, the beaches clear and vast, and the busy markets all breezed past – clear and remarkable, yet intangible like a puff of smoke.

We returned home and went about our lives as newlyweds – staying in on Friday nights, the baby-talk, the quick trips to the store that we took together because neither wanted to be without the other.

With a new consciousness of marriage and its role in society and how we would arrange ourselves within that mysterious world, I began to notice things. Something strange had burrowed its way into the DNA of American culture. We returned to a home that was surprisingly cynical toward our new life.

The sitcom has been around as long as television and has carried with it the same jokes from a half a century ago. In the ‘50s, Ralph wanted to send Alice “to the moon.” Haven’t we grown up since then? Tune in to an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond or The King of Queens to find out. The sad answer: no. Fictional men are complaining about their fictional wives more now than ever. The “ball-and-chain” joke is a staple on many television shows. Hasn’t our humor evolved? I assume the sad crew of so-called “redneck” comedians has their share of material on the matter.

One black-and-white comedian supported an entire career on one line – “Take my wife—please.” It’s unfortunate that his jokes didn’t die when he did.

Bumper stickers claim to know a lot about marriage: men don’t like listening to their wives talk, men prefer their dogs over their wives, men often trade their wives for guns and boats and fast cars, men stay married because it’s too expensive to get divorced, men offer rewards for missing dogs but not for missing wives, and on and on and on. These stickers are usually wedged delicately between a flapping confederate flag and a cartoon character urinating on something.

As men across America roll around in their favorite chairs, basking in the glow of their televisions and laughing at the prospect of punching out their wives, or giving them away to some mysterious charity, their wives try to remember the moment when they were turned against.

“You’re a newlywed,” they might say. “Just wait – give it a couple of years and you’ll be laughing with the rest of us.” “It’s just a joke,” others might say. “Lighten up.”

I guess I just don’t get it. Passive-aggressive people make jokes about truly deeper issues. This must be the case with bumper stickers and sitcoms and movies and any other platform for these thoughtless jokes. I think we need to peel the stickers off our cars, cut the cable wires and spend a little more time with each other. And if that doesn’t work just call a divorce lawyer.