Driving down Douglas this past Tuesday I couldn’t help noticing a forelorn figure, shaggy head down, slumped despondently on a street-side bench. His large, bare feet instantly identified him to me and I swung over, pulled to a stop in the parking lot beside him, rolled down my window, and said, “Hey Bigfoot, why so sad?”
He growled back, between sniffles, “It’s election day and thanks to Kansas Secretary of State Kris Kobach I can’t vote on whether the Ambassador Hotel gets bed tax money from the city of Wichita.” He then pulled a delicate hankie out of his man-purse and loudly blew his nose. “After all, I’m a mythological creature and we have no photo IDs.” A large tear made its way down the fur on his face and plopped onto the ground.
“But, Sasquatch,” I said, “Take a little comfort in the knowledge that Secretary Kobach has eliminated, once and for all, the problem of non-existent fraudulent voters skewing our elections in favor of liberal candidates. Obviously, you’re a fine ultra-conservative voter, Bigfoot. It’s certainly unfortunate that you got caught up in the dragnet that Secretary Kobach has cast across Kansas. But he absolutely had to do something to catch all those other mythological creatures who try to vote in Kansas. Imagine what kind of candidate that liberal Tooth Fairy would have voted for. And those socialist pinkos, Santa and Easter Bunny, with their redistribution of toys and eggs in communistic fashion? Ugh. Kansas just can’t allow those views to prevail.”
“I guess you’re right,” Bigfoot said sadly. “Plus, the problem of mythological illegal immigrant voters is solved. By golly, I’m gonna go volunteer to work for Kris Kobach’s re-election!”
And off he strolled, knuckles dragging, but with a new bounce in his step.