Census and Sensibilities

Hot as hell in NYC today.  Others are jumping in rivers and lakes and doing pagan dances around fire hydrants spaying water joyously.

I am sitting in a US Census meeting.  One fan. And it isn't me.  Drenched. My t-shirt looks like I entered a contest in a bar sponsored by Jagermeister.   There is droning about Form #49283XBF and the matter of the RUV-83DE project.   I just want my answer what do about the asshole doorman on 21st Street who is ruining my life. Instead I sit and fester and marinate.

Census work is not for the weak of heart. It is for the unemployed.

Census Training - Mormon Church Style

I am in the Church of Latter Day Saints on Columbus doing census training.  This a place that one usually protests in front of, not goes into.  And inside it is all nice and clean and bland.  Like Utah.

There are loads of pretty white, tidy-beard Jesus paintings all over the place with Joseph Smith Mormonian overtones.  It seems nice, but you are creeped at the same time.  The same way I felt when I was in Temple Square in Salt Lake City.

As if that weren't odd enough we are training in the multi-propose room where they put on Brigham Young knows what kind of plays and they play basketball.  The din in there is incredible as there are several groups in various pockets being trained at once so you cannot hear a thing and THEN they scheduled OPERA SINGER AUDITIONS right next store.  Someone is belting an aria while 4 crew leaders yell out about what to do if someone is away in the military but lives in the housing unit most of the year.  It was crazy.

Census Taker, Dream Maker, Leader Faker

When I got on a grand jury this past year all I wanted to do was do my time and get out.

They appointed me foreman.

Today they are going to appoint Lead Enumerators for the 2010 Census who have to run teams and be responsible for a lot of shit.  I already KNOW I will be one of them.  I just know it. 

Sure enough, today I was appointed Lead Enumerator.  I have absolutely no idea what we will be doing on Monday, but I will be in charge of a team that I do know.

I cannot get arrested in the job market, but give me a jury or a census to run and I am your man.

In the Realm of the Census

 

I saw a postcard at the check out at the grocery that said,  "Come Join the Census!" or somesuch thing. I took one. I took the exam. I got a 98%.  I got the call and today I started my training to be a census taker.

The census is all about near accuracy and confidentiality. 

It is also run by the government. 

The training on day one was one of the most unorganized messes I had ever experienced. It started at the front desk where they did not have me on the list. I  knew this alone would be trouble.

They put people in rooms willy nilly and then took hours to hand out the pre-labeled forms packets because they didn't know where everyone was! 

I, of course, did not get one because as of most of the day, I did not exist.

I have this odd (and very common, I know) thing about being unique.  We can all stand around in the rain in the same tailored suit, but I will be the only one with the hole in my shoe.  Of the 200 people I was the only one who did not exist in the eyes of the US government. I was lost in the system somewhere.   Meanwhile...

The I-9s we filled out at the exam were all misplaced (confidentiality?) so we (or they, since I still could not be counted at the census training of all places!) had to fill out new ones.  The form filling took hours where it should have taken 25 minutes.

Then there was the fingerprinting.  Chaos!  I still didn't exist so I had to go at the end of the day to another building down Wall Street way into the bowels so they could find me.  They told me I lived on Riverside Drive and that was the problem. [The real problem was I had never lived on Riverside Drive and they needed this to not be true.]  Finally they found me and I got printed and got out 1.5 hours late.  
Now I am a real live boy and have been counted.

Stay tuned, I still do not have an ID number and cannot get paid...

Census - Count Me Out (and Proud?)

Yesterday I went out to get some bleach and came back with peanut butter.  It was a hard day in my head and I was feeling a bit knocked about.  If you are going to have a pitty party peanut butter is better than bleach.  If you are going to kill yourself, bleach is better.

On the grocery counter was a card looking for census takers and an 800 number. I grabbed it so God would once again see me making an effort in my life.  I called it so God would say "Wow, he is not bullshitting!"  And I made an appointment to take the census exam.

This morning I took it.  It is all logic and math and number 2 pencils kind of thing.  You had to be a US citizen to take it or legal to work in the US. This made sense. But then it had a thing where it said "FOR MALES ONLY. If you were born after December, 31 1959 you must be registered with the Selective Service System."

I remember doing this on my 18th birthday in New York City with my dad.  And here it was all these years later.  I thought, "Harumph, I did it so that is cool. No worries."  Then I thought, "Wait a minute, you won't let me be in my own damn military if I am out as gay and yet I would be prevented from getting a job with my own country's government just because I didn't sign up for something I am not eligible for in the first place because of some bullshit, homophobic law?! F*#K, you."

Meanwhile kids next to me who have never even heard of 1959 were furiously filling out their forms.  But I am pissed that that is on the form.  And let's not even get into census marital status and what a household is, etc.

I am angry.

But you will pay me $18.75 an hour to talk to strangers?  Count me in!

I got 98% on the exam. I was pissed. I probably got some homophobic question wrong...