I filled out my Census form over the weekend, and I’m not ashamed to admit I was excited about it. I like the Census. It’s fair. At least once every 10 years, everybody in America is equal. We all count the same. One.
On Census Day, for instance, I’m equal to Brad Pitt.
Imagine that. Brad Pitt, with his eleventy billion dollars in the bank, his pretty-boy good looks and the phone numbers of every supermodel and actress in Hollywood, is equal to li’l ol’ Mitch Clarke, who has $42.50 in his checking account and doesn’t know any supermodels or actresses, unless you count my friend who occasionally performs in community theater.
The U.S. Constitution requires that, every 10 years, the government counts the number of people living here. Quite a few people have a problem with this. They argue that the Census Bureau’s forms and its companion, the American Community Survey, invade our privacy by asking questions that are none of the government’s business.
They ask us questions about how much we paid for our house. They ask how much money we make. They ask questions about our mental and physical stability.
I understand those concerns. I don’t like anyone, especially the government, butting into my business.
On the other hand, answers given to the census and the American Community Survey give us important statistics that will help us better understand the American way of life. It also is the only way I know to get answers to a few burning questions that have been gnawing at me.
For instance:
- In 1980, the Census Bureau caught a lot of grief for asking people if they had indoor plumbing. Do they still ask that question? And if so, did any of my friends answer “no?” This is very important. I need to know before I accept their invitation to dinner.
- How many people in America are named “Mitch Clarke,” and do any of them date supermodels or actresses?
- Do all of them have indoor plumbing?
- How many people in America are named “Brad Pitt” and are any of them news directors at a radio station?
- Does anyone really live in North Dakota?
- Under “current or most recent job activity,” did anyone answer “professional bourbon taster.” One day, I may need to change jobs, and I’d like to know all my options.
- Exactly how many teenagers are there in, like, America, and when will they, like, grow up so they’ll stop using the word “like,” like, five times in a sentence, like, you know?
- Under “place of birth,” how many people wrote, “On an interstate off-ramp in the back seat of a Buick?” It seems to happen a lot on TV and I’m curious if it happens much in real life.
- What did the cast of “Real Housewives” list as their occupations?
- How many people have college degrees, and do any of them remember how to use the Pythagorean theorem?
- Did anyone’s answers explain why about 6 million people choose to live in metro Atlanta where there is crime, pollution and traffic, yet only a few thousand live in my hometown, where the air is clean, the land is undeveloped and people are actually nice to each other?
- How can you assure me that the federal government, which can’t perform simple math and balance its own checkbook, can be trusted to have counted every one of us correctly?
