This Doesn’t Make Any Census

Today is the deadline for submitting my census questionnaire to the Government of Canada. I sat down at my computer a half an hour ago to complete the forms online. I decided, for once, to read every word of the instructions before I began.

Here is the first line of the instructions:

“Completing an online questionnaire is easy.”

I now believe this line is the equivalent of a doctor or nurse telling me to, “Relax. You’re not going to feel a thing.” After I receive that advice, I immediately feel a thing.

Following “completing an online questionnaire is easy” are 2,707 words, broken up into 25 sections, explaining to me how easy this is going to be.

Wish me luck as I strap myself into the car on this roller coaster ride.

(Whoops. I just found another eight easy instruction items. A total of 1,111 more words. And I skipped a section of Frequently Asked Questions which consumes 1,089 more words. That means the details for the easy online questionnaire are laid out in 4,907 words which is almost twice as many as the eulogy I am writing for the prime minister of Canada to read at my funeral someday far into the future. The tribute to be given by Justin Trudeau begins, “Jim Hagarty was an expert at completing his census online.”)

P.S. I just completed my census online. It was a breeze. Took 20 minutes. I didn’t feel a thing.

©2021 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.