LET'S STAMP OUT INVASION OF PRIVACY

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: TUESDAY, February 11, 1992                   TAG: 9202110360
SECTION: VIRGINIA                    PAGE: B-1   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: Ed Shamy
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium
LET'S STAMP OUT INVASION OF PRIVACY
November: I am at Virginia Tech to speak to a class of communications students. Eager to do the right thing, I apply to the campus parking czar for a one-day, guest parking permit. In exchange for the permit, the czar wants my Social Security number.
January: A friend is being naturalized as a U.S. citizen. Minutes before the induction ceremony, after months of application boondoggle, he has to fill out one last form. Among the dozen questions: Are you now, or have you ever been, a member of the Communist Party?
February: I want to read the official election returns from November's races. I want to know who received write-in votes in Roanoke, Roanoke County and Salem. (Bambi, Mickey Mouse, No money, None of the Above, Help for the Poor, admitted tax cheat Frank Selbe III and comedian Foster Brooks.)
Before I can see the election returns in the registrars' offices, I must: a) be a registered voter; b) sign my name; c) list my address; d) record my affiliation and; e) list the documents I want to see.
If there is not already a booming market for rubber stamps - "None of your damned business" - there ought to be. I'd like to order a half-bushel.
Michael Brown seems put off by the complaint. He's been the executive secretary of the Virginia Board of Elections since 1990, and has never heard anyone complain about the sign-in policy or the registered-voters-only law, both of which he inherited.
He didn't build the vise. He's just turning the handle, steadily crushing drops of privacy from the brittle citizenry.
If anything, it's a legitimate way to snoop a bit. You can sign in and look at the list, learning who visited before you did and what they saw.
Brown says that sanctioned eavesdropping is common - a little perk of visiting the registrar's office. You can track competitors, companions and the curious with a handy paper trail painted by your local registrar.
"It's been a policy for a long time," says Brown.
Translation: We've always done it that way.
Analysis: Weak.
Explanation: "You're handling official documents," says Brown. "If pages are missing, who do we blame?"
I dunno.
Ask court clerks. They don't require me to sign in, or to list which documents I want. Nor do I have to be under indictment, or a bar-approved attorney to see court documents.
Ask librarians. They'll ask for my library card if I borrow library material, but what I borrow is our little secret. You can't ask the librarian what I'm reading this week.
Registrars are concerned that someone will deface, disorganize, or steal election files.
The gall of some people, huh? Wanting to see all these documents!
Saddled with that sort of paranoia, it may be best for registrars to put the original documents in humidity-controlled archives, and let us rabble toy with photocopies.
Brown has never had to track an offender from one of his lists. He does not require local registrars to send their lists each year to Richmond.
They're just there - chilling, intimidating open books. Little reminders that you have no privacy.

by Bhavesh Jinadra by CNB