...because according to my calendar, Monday is the first business day after the start of Daylight Savings Time. Forget assassinating egotistical world-changing geniuses, the real significance is losing an hour of sleep. ;-)
Speaking of the Romans, census forms are in the mail. I'll have to talk to John about ours, and how it's worded and whether I'll be counted. I'm pretty sure I didn't get counted in 2000. It's very easy to get missed if you share a dwelling. Between that, and reading the mistakes in old census records, I have to wonder whether the data collected is really good for anything at all, even aggregated.
Fortunately for the genealogists of the future, they won't have to rely on census data to learn where I've been and what I'm doing (privacy? What privacy?). They'll be able to trace straight back to the same amusing records my dad and I found. Such as my grandfather, who appears in the 1920 census as a six-month-old baby... girl, named Florence. Or his father, whose occupation on the same record appears to be "moon pictures." We're still not sure whether that was the census-taker's handwriting, or Bob telling stories. Or both.