I think I know where my voter registration card is. It's in a small wicker basket, on a desk in my bedroom. At least, that's the last place I saw it. Somehow, though, come Election Day, I always seem to find it in the proverbial last place I looked.

I know people who carry their voter registration card in their wallets. They literally sit on it every chance they get, which is not a bad thing. When it gets close to Election Day, they don't have to worry about where they left it. I'm starting my search this week.

I've gone to vote many times without the card. All I need is proof that I am who I say I am. I've never been tempted to say that I'm anyone else, so that point is moot.

But apparently there are people among us who fear that we'll go to the polls posing as someone else. This is as far as my understanding of this fear goes. I have no clue as to why. The official reason is that they fear voter fraud. That's the catchall idea that has some legislators in Austin scrambling to enact a voter ID law.

At last report, the lawmakers had worked out a compromise that shifted the burden of proof. Here's the thinking as I read it: We can't trust people to be honest with their vote (please read "people" to mean any member of the opposing political faction), so there must be a way to police their fraudulent tendencies. The easy answer was to force voters to prove their right to vote. Keep in mind the overall context: This is the United States of America.

The voter ID bill would require citizen voters to produce a copy of their birth certificate or naturalization documents when they register to vote.

Remember, I have only a faint inkling as to the whereabouts of my voter card. I'm not asking for special dispensation. Don't make an exception to a proposed law just because of my slightly disorganized nature.

But on the other hand, let's not get crazy. Let's get two things straight about the need for voter ID: Most people would be burdened with the obligation to prove their right to vote, and there is no real threat.

In the face of the coming local election in which we expect about 6 percent of voters to participate, we need to make the voting process easier; we can't afford to add another layer of red tape to the process.

And fraud, when it happens — and it does — occurs most often after the vote has taken place. There is a small crumb of a tiny fraction of the people who count votes that can't be trusted. That crumb is larger than the total number of people who cheat on elections on the front end. We need to watch them both.

This is where the compromise in Austin is noteworthy. The voter ID bill is moving forward, but the burden of proof is no longer on me (I take this thing personally). The burden is now on the state to verify that I have the right to vote. And it makes sense in an imperfect world; the state gave me my birth certificate to begin with. This whole thing makes bureaucrats look bad. They could have been doing this since the get-go.

Here's how the compromise bill would work, according to the Dallas Morning News:

"A bill by Rep. Phil King, R-Weatherford, charges the secretary of state with verifying, through database checks, the citizenship of anyone who registers to vote, starting in September. Applications would also require registrants to list their date and place of birth, or the date and place of naturalization. If an applicant doesn't show up in the state's cross-reference with various databases identifying citizens, that person would be required to go to his local elections office and swear to his citizenship."

In a perfect world, no one would fear voter fraud or use that invented fear to keep people from voting; the state would make no mistakes and the right of every new voter would be properly verified; and I'd remember where I put my voter registration card.