Back in February, I applied for a job with the US Census Bureau. I took the test and waited for the call. Around the middle of March, I got it. I was asked if I still wanted to work, and would I be interested in being a Group Enumerator. What’s that, I asked? A Group Enumerator will go to larger facilities like hospitals, nursing homes, and such and count the folks there. It pays $14.50/hour plus travel time plus mileage. Sure, I said. Where do I go? ‘There is to be 3 days of training, next Wed, Thur, Friday in Franklin, Tn, 8 hours a day’. ‘I’ll be there’.
Franklin is about 45 miles SW of Murfreesboro, about a 1 hour drive. I went the 3 days, being paid $14.50/hr + .50 cents per mile + time and a half for the travel time. We learned how to fill out a census form. How to talk to people. How to read census maps. And most importantly, how to fill out a government time sheet, so we could get paid. That was the hardest part of the training, since if the ‘I’s’ aren’t dotted and the ‘T’s’ aren’t crossed just right, you won’t get paid. We learned that in a group facility, that there were only 5 questions to ask- 1. Name 2. Sex 3. Race 4. Ethnic Nationality 5. Age Any 3 of these answered constituted a complete census form and the person would be counted. The form sent to your home had 10 questions I think, but we only needed 5. There were 20 people in my class, the cream of the census crop. We were split into 3 groups to cover 3 areas based on where we lived. I would be working close to home. Upon being dismissed on the 26th of March, we were told that we would be having daily meetings at a Burger King, in M’boro. The national counting of the homeless folks would be held on the night of March 30th, beginning at midnight, that next Tuesday. At our meeting on Monday, we were split into teams of 3, for safety. We were told not to violate the space of the homeless, to count from afar if necessary, to get specific if invited in to a camp by a homeless person. My team of 3 was assigned to check under all of the bridges in Murfreesboro. Someone had gone around during the daytime, a few months earlier, and estimated how many homeless were attached to each location, by reading the stuff and belongings found in an area. We were give maps, vests, flashlights, our Official US Census tote bag, and an Official US Census Bureau ID badge on a lanyard that we hung around our neck. Away we went, into the night to places one would not normally go to. For 4 ½ hours we walked, crawled, ran (from a train while checking under a railroad bridge), and shined our lights on the unknown world of the forgotten people. Then we went back to the Official US Census Bureau checkpoint in the Burger King parking lot to report our findings. We found- no one. Not one homeless person was out that night. It was in the 40’s, but not really freezing. The girl at a Quik Stop coffee break place said we might find some homeless dudes behind her store, but since that was not part of our official territory, we were not allowed to look. None of the other 3 teams found anyone either, So, there are no homeless people in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. It’s official.
The next day, we met at the Burger King for our daily meeting. Before the meeting officially started, our crew leader pulled 5 of us aside and told us he had to let us go. The reason being- the US Census Bureau had hired too many people, so he was told to let some go. Let’s see: I went to 30 plus hours of training for 4 ½ hours of work. That would be government efficiency at its best, I suppose. About a week later, I got a call from the Census Bureau office here in Murfreesboro asking me to come in to the office and work inside. So I went down and they put me to work calling people and asking them if they still wanted to be ‘door knockers’. They needed to line up their work force for the task of going around and pursuing all of the people who did not return the Census form in the mail. I was asked to do this, but they wouldn’t give me a golf cart to use, and I sure wasn’t going to walk the streets of Murfreesboro looking for deadbeats in the questionable parts of town. So they paid me for another 8 hours and let me go again. The end truly came when I was asked back to the office to fill out a critique of my job. They sent me down to Burger King to sit and fill out the form, took away my Official US Census Bureau ID badge, paid me for 2 more hours and put me on the street for the last time. My Federal career was over.
What you may ask did I do with all of that Census Bureau money? Why, I went out and bought my self a new set of golf clubs and a ukulele. Brother Tom said my old Maxflis bought from Bob Toski at Hidden Valley, around 1974, were too ancient to be seen on a respectable golf course. So I have a set of shiny new clubs, big metal woods, hybrid irons, and a real funky putter. I went to the driving range a few times, then went out for my first 18 holes in 25 years. The first thing I learned is that I can no longer physically get down real low to read putts. That is a big problem. But the swing was still there. I hit some good, and some medium and some awful shots, but I still shot a 110, which I was quite happy with. Even the bro was a little impressed. Now his game, that’s a different story. He plays at least once a week and most of the time is in the upper 70’s- low 80’s. In fact he came by yesterday to tell me that he aced a hole yesterday on the VA course around here. It was a par 4 that he gets to play from the senior tees, so it was about340 yds down wind. He can still crank it now and then. I have a cousin over in Arkansas that’s retired and plays 3 or 4 times a week. He’s a regular type of a player, but he sure can find golf balls. He gave me a life time supply, about 150 prime balls, the last time I was over there. Unfortunately, it’s too freeeking hot to play right now. Even in a cart, I faded away on 17 and 18, lost my focus and strength and desire or I might have broken 100. But I’ll be back, when it gets a little cooler. As for the ukulele, I’ve always wanted to learn to play one. I really like Hawaiian music, and hoped to find a part time job with a Hawaiian band at a Polynesian restaurant. But there don’t seem to be any of them in the area. Oh, well, I’ll keep on practicing just in case.
No comments:
Post a Comment