Roger Collier

Do you believe the government should be asking you what time you leave for work in the morning? Whether your house needs renovations? Or how many bedrooms you have? What if you discovered the federal government requires Canadians to divulge this private information under the threat of fines or jail time, only to turn around and sell it to marketing firms looking to sell you their products -- Industry Minister Tony Clement, Toronto Sun, July 20, 2010

D ear resident of a dwelling in Canada in the year 2006:

Thank you for answering the following questions. We appreciate your mandatory participation. The data from the 2006 census will be used to develop education and health services, as well as social programs (sock hops, speed dating, etc.).

According to our calculations, in four years a politician named Tony will claim that your private information is sold to "marketing firms looking to sell you their products." This is false. Marketing firms look to sell you other companies' products.

Chief Good-At-Math Person,

How many rooms are there in this dwelling? (Do not count bathrooms, halls and vestibules.)

Whoa, whoa, whoa. That's an intimate detail about my private life. You can't make me disclose that. What if that information got out? What if my neighbours learned of my suburban home's floor plan that is posted on the Internet and is pretty much identical to the layout of every house within 20 kilometres? I wouldn't be able to show my face around here again. Sorry, but the non-bathroom room-count of my house is nobody's business but my own. Also, what is a vestibule?

How many of these rooms are bedrooms?

What are you implying? That I am some kind of pervert? That I live in a many-bedroomed house and spend my days slinking from bedroom to bedroom, engaging in sordid bedroom activities? You just want to sell my bedroom information to bedroom marketers looking to sell me kinky bedroom products, such as fuzzy handcuffs and armoires. To paraphrase Pierre Trudeau: The state has no right to inquire how many bedrooms are in Roger Collier's four-bedroom home.

Where did you live one year ago, that is, on May 16, 2005?

Is this dwelling in need of any repairs?

Did my wife put you up to this? Sure, I have a few uncompleted projects. What man doesn't? I'll get around to patching the roof, fixing the toilet and installing a front door as soon as I finish my current project: breaking par on Xbox 360 Tiger Woods PGA Tour 06.

What is your occupation? (plumber, fishing guide, wood furniture assembler, etc.)

I'm beginning to think my job is full-time census filler-outer. Does this thing ever end?

How do you usually get to work?

There you go again, asking me to divulge intimate details about my private life. Commuting is a personal matter. You might as well ask me if I enjoy wearing my wife's lingerie. (I don't, by the way, except on weekends or while watching America's Next Top Model.) Perhaps I ride to work naked on a unicorn. Why do you care? Do you want to unicorn-pool or something?

Last week, how many hours did you spend doing unpaid housework?

Hours? You have obviously never seen my kitchen floor. Make that "minutes" and I'll get back to you.

Is anyone living in this dwelling a farm operator who produces at least one agricultural product intended for sale? (livestock, Christmas trees, bees, furs, etc.)

Unlike you, Comrade StatsCan, I do not intrude into the private affairs of others, not even family members. Does my six-year-old daughter sell fur coats at school during recess? Does my four-year-old son raise bees when I'm not around? Does my wife have a secret Christmas tree farm in our backyard? I don't know, because I've never asked. I respect their privacy. You should do the same.

Does anyone living in this dwelling have any difficulty hearing, seeing, communicating, walking, climbing stairs, bending, learning or doing any similar activities?

Trouble bending? What kind of question is that? What do we look like, a bunch of lapsed contortionists? You are probably just looking for someone with a strong back to move boxes or dart trophies. Well, count me out. For the next month, I'll be busy filling out this stupid census. Then I have to clean my vestibule.