What's the Con-Census?

For this broken down blogger at least, the 2009 segment of the 2010 decennial census is at an end. It was a great amount of fun while it lasted, but it came to an unexpected end on a day it was expected to end. True to the 'soap opera-ness' of my daily existence, I was brought down by a somewhat comical occurrence. As most exciting Census stories do, this one starts looking past dark and threatening "POSTED! KEEP OUT!" signs, flanked by a couple of "NO TRESPASSING" signs for good measure. Well, hell! Now anyone's curiosoity is bound to be piqued! Especially mine. My life of crime has brought me to the mindset that most people have something to hide, and if they're so blatant about doing so......well, where's there's smoke there's generally fire. Right? My ID badge, and the fact of my sworn duty to do everything possible to serve the Census to the best of my ability, tell me to just go up that hidden driveway.
Editorial note: This a good time to state that the US Census Bureau's mission is legislated, has been occurring for much of our history, and every American citizen and everyone else living on US soil and it's territories is subject to being enumerated during each decennial census. This means EVERYONE. If the Department of Commerce was held at bay by every Private Drive and No Trespassing sign which everyone could potentially hang up on the corner of their property, the government could balance it's budget with the enormous savings of never having to do another census. In short, Census Bureau Enumerators have the authority and right to enter all properties for the intended purpose of enumeration only. It should also be said that if a person who is present on that property asks the enumerator to leave, it is policy that they simply leave and report that the location could not be enumerated, and why.
Up the steep and winding driveway goes your hapless hero. My Dodge Dakota has a growling V-6 engine,. It and the knobby tires running on gravel are quite a cacophony of sound in a quiet pastoral setting. In short, my arrival was announced way ahead of my door closing as I disembarked the truck. The first thing I hear is not the barking of the two large German Shepherd dogs the neighbors have warned me about. From out of nowhere, a soft feminine voice asking me what it is I want. Far better than being bitten by snarling police dogs, I'm sure.
That's what I thought, anyway. Turns out I'd have welcomed the dogs. I can deal with dogs.
The phantom voice told me to state my business, so I did complete with holding my Census Bureau badge out for viewing. However, I'm about 15 feet from the window which I've no noticed is the origin of the voice, and probably my fine print was illegible from that distance.
The Voice tells me to, "wait right there". Compliant me. I did as told. In seconds, I can hear conversation coming through the screen of the half open window. "Now we're cookin'", I'm thinking to myself. "She must be discussing census with someone, and I'll soon be done".
Not so fast, Mr. Enumerator! Suddenly what appears to be a telephone comes from off stage and is thrust against the screen window. A highly agitated, and very authoritative male voice suddenly demands, "You are not supposed to be on this property. We have posted signs, and this is private property" or words to that effect. "Get out right now!" the second disembodied voice continues. "I'm dialing 911 and you're going to be arrested".
The irony is that if the lady had said for me to leave, I'd have been gone before she could have dialed the phone.
I reintroduced myself and stated my business, but the male presence would have none of it. I was a criminal, and the cops would deal with me. In the meanwhile, while I could have been gone, he's continuing to ask me questions. "What's your name?" he asked. By now, I am alerted to the fact that this guy is quite possibly not altogether all together. There's no way he's getting my name from me, as I live too close to that address, and have an aversion to firebombs in the wee hours. There may be several other things a whack job could do if so inclined, so I gave my badge number and a phone where he could inform my superiors that I'm doing my job. that's what I should have said, but just gave him the numbers and had to actually interrupt his tirade to get back into the Dakota and drive away.
But wait! There's more!
I naturally, posted the aborted effort as per Census Bureau policy, and stated why I was unable to get the location registered on my hand held computer. That was nearly a week before I met with my supervisor for a bi-weekly meeting. Nothing was said at the meeting, and I believed that the nutcase had blown off his steam, showed his wife what a real man he is, and had forgotten about it. I grossly underestimated the depth of this guy's need to me a pain in the ass. A day after our regular meeting I received a call from my supervisor requesting a meeting at 10:00 AM, and "bring all your Census materials with you". I'm no genius, but even I could guess the meaning of that caveat. Sure enough. The off the wall citizen had "gone all the way to the top". My boss was ordered to "take a statement" from this ex-enumerator, regarding the "incident" at the loonie's house.
So, it was all over, the day it was going to be anyway. The strange thing is this: I've been asked if I'll join the team later for further activities, and been told that this is one of the things that sometimes happens even when you play it by the book as I did.
At least the wild man didn't find out where I live, and therefore I assume he wasn't given my name. That gives me a good feeling when I think of the 2010 Census, and how I found that one individual out of at least 1200 I covered who will not be dissuaded from being a total jerk. But then, sit-com or soap opera, you pick which , but I definitely live one or the other.
See? I told you when I took this fun job it would be interesting.