The Census Bureau is still at it, and I don't think they believed me the first time.
Got a visit from some guy wielding a clipboard a few minutes ago. He's with the Census Department's quality control division, doing a little spot-checking.
"I sent mine in," I reminded him. "The Bureau sent me two forms so I almost sent in two."
Turns out "something happened" to the form I sent in, he told me. Yeah, I know exactly what happened to it. I sent it in with just the information that was needed under the Constitution, i.e. address and number of people living in my place. The rest was left blank. Understand, the Census is a head count; nothing more.
As a result, I earned an interview with the Census folks. This guy is probably a little younger than me, black guy with splashes of gray in his dreadlocks. Nice enough, but a bit nervous.
He asked me my address. Is this the correct one? I said yes.
He asked my name. I gave it to him, and told him it was just hearsay.
He asked my age. With a totally straight face and no shame whatsoever, I said I was 29. When he started to write that in, I told him the truth -- 52.
"Male or female? ... well, obviously," he said as he wrote this down.
"Race?" he wanted to know.
Now, that's a sticking point with me. That is really no one's business. If you fill out a job application, they can't ask for your race. Even including a picture of yourself in your job resume is a no-no because of the race angle. And, whether anyone will admit it or not, race does determine how much government money goes where.
But considering the U.S. Census is an official government function and it's not smart to tweak the noses of the Feds, I gave him my answer.
"Martian."
Hopefully, this will end my involvement with Census 2010.
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