The census taker was here today.
We never got a census form.
Ten years ago we never got a census form because the census forms were mailed to street addresses (mainly, I think, because the Census Bureau wants to count the number of people living at various addresses in the country). We have a post office box for our mail, so our census form was returned. This happens all the time. Our main post office is in Perry and for some convoluted reason we can’t seem to get our mail if it’s addressed to our house. It MUST BE ADDRESSED to the PO Box. Used to be, in Castile, if you wrote a letter and addressed it to, say, “Grandma Jones, Castile”, it would get there.
So fast forward to 2020.
We never got a census form. This time I really don’t know why (but I have a good guess).
In November, last year, we bought a house in Cheektowaga. In April, I believe, we got a census form, at our street address in Cheektowaga, which I filled out, online using the secret Census number assigned to us (or to our address?).
Now, the Census Bureau wants to count us AGAIN. We’re so important we need to be counted TWICE, apparently.
We’re not that important, so I refused to answer any of the poor census taker’s questions except to say we’d already been counted and didn’t want to be counted twice.
So I think about the pandemic, the federal government, the postal service, the Census Bureau and then I look at the taxes I pay and I just shake my head.