A form from the DMV showed up the other day. Those always make me nervous~~ mostly because of all the speed cameras all over town. Fixed and stationary they’re always on and always snapping and flashing away. I’m a big fan; if you speed, you pay. I really don’t understand the objection to them. They’re considerably more efficient than patrol officers which means uniforms can be out policing in a community and not writing speeding tickets.
This particular mailing was not one of the standard $200 (court costs, admin fees, etc..) tickets. Instead it was my annual clean-air quality form I had to take to an emissions station. Now. for anyone with a normal vehicle it’s a mere inconvenience. Typical quasi governmental agency means long lines, limited customer service and general inefficiency. I’m ok with all that; the shivers come with the realization I actually have to coax clean air out of my nearly twenty year old Toyota. On occasion I’m still shocked it fires up every time I need. Every once in awhile I take it out on the 10 just to make sure the top gears still work.
I crawled in amidst the dog collars, leashes, note-pads, bags and other dog supplies, I’ve read it’s best to put in a few miles before getting tested; something about burning out the bad emissions. Whatever; I had a couple errands to run then jumped into the Disney-like snake line to wait my turn. My phone was fully charged–important since my lighter hasn’t worked for years so no mobile-charging–and I was ready to catch up on some reading. Anxious to find any additional tips to squeeze through another test I learned a little about air quality and why I was even spending part of my morning amidst a sea of cars with drivers all thinking the same thing. Maybe not exactly the same thing as most all the others were in vehicles I knew would sail through.
Part of what I learned is that I live in an incredibly (comparatively) clean-air town! I think my crystal-clear views of mountains all around already told me that but it was nice to see validation. In fact, AZ has three of the top 25 cities in the US for low particulate count in the air. Again, that shouldn’t come as much surprise given the propensity for retirees coming here, in part, because of the positive impact felt on breathing issues.
Pulling into bay #3 I ended up with the guy with the biggest pony-tail, oldest stocking cap, and most ink. Sure of it. Not much talking–step out of the car and onto the smiley face painted on the floor, away from any possibility of influencing results. I stood nervously staring away into nothing, glancing at the other bays filled with shiny vehicles certain to ensure our ranking as a top-tier clean-air city continues. I could feel the RPMs climb as the measuring stick sucked up fumes. I glanced over as he waved his mirror-on-a-stick under the frame, looking for signs of tampering. After a few minutes the tech handed me back my keys, mumbled something incomprehensible and said I could get back in the car. Gladly; I may as well sit while I pull out a notepad to write down what I need to do after failing the test. After a minute the tech hands me a sheet of paper and my bill and, in the same incomprehensible manner said payment could be cash or check only; no credit cards. Certain I misunderstood I asked or stated or something….he pointed to my sheet and said I passed, cash or check? I passed!
Before he changed his mind I quickly handed exact change, put the truck in gear and sped out the bay. Another year to forget all about it.
I’m happy to pay a few bucks if it means I breathe cleaner air. And I can happily report I’ve still never received one of the $200 photo-tickets. Yet.