The Census is winding down the door-to-door portion of its program, and I was just informed that my contract as a temporary employee has been extended. I have no idea what the next phase will be – the government’s not confiding in me – but I have a hunch it will be to randomly check on the information the nation’s 600,000 census takers have turned in. This could mean that one in fifty or so average Joes should gear up to be contacted AGAIN to go over what was told to the census taker that day he was interrupted while barbecuing, showering, touching his girlfriend, etc. by someone with a name badge and a clipboard. I don’t know about other census enumerators, but I assured the people I spoke with at their front door that this was the LAST time anyone from the Census Bureau would be pestering them. Party on.
The newspapers have run accounts of enumerators around the country being bitten by dogs, attacked by homeowners, shot with pellet guns, menaced with lawn furniture, and just generally treated inhospitably. I’m not all that surprised. It’s the economy, stupid. My own experience was more positive. Generally, I found people to be at the very worst moderately rude, and at the very best quite helpful. It probably didn’t hurt that they were opening their door to see a smiling, middle-aged woman in a dress and strappy sandals. Out of all the homes I visited, I had very few residents who absolutely refused to participate. Many questioned the necessity of it. A large handful was suspicious about the government’s motives for wanting what they considered to be personal information. Several long-retired gentlemen flirted with me. One woman didn’t want to talk except to ask where I bought my shoes. I told her if she told me how many people were in her household, I’d tell her the store. Fashion trumps suspicion every time.
Some residents gave me their name and suggested the government Google them to find out whatever they needed to know. I did just that when I got home, and came away with quite a bit of information about people’s professions, favorite social networking sites, recent vacation photos, and general ego size, but really nothing the government would be interested in for census purposes. In reality, the questions asked on the census form are not nearly as personal as what my Google searches revealed. The government doesn’t need to see anyone in a bathing suit. Sadly, I have.
The thing the public seemed most leery of was on the handout sheet where it said the residents of our country are required by law to participate. People bristle at being told they have to comply with something just because their government says so. I really do understand that, what with Watergate, Nam, phantom WMDs, Sarah Palin, etc. I also understand that the Constitution states that the residents of the United States must participate in a census every ten years. It’s the only way to gather the population information necessary to decide state representation in Congress and the distribution of government funds. The Census dates back to ancient Rome. Now those would be some bathing suits worth Googling.
Daughter’s Featured Fotos take us back to The Street
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