I’m not exactly sure if this story could qualify as an April Fool’s joke or not, but since it describes an event that involves fooling someone, I decided to go ahead and share it. This poem describes the “short version” of an actual encounter I had a few years ago in the great state of California. I wasn’t intentionally trying to fool anyone, but I felt it was best for me to keep my mouth shut during an emissions check and just let the professionals do what they’re trained and paid to do. I’ll let the poem tell the tale, but just to be perfectly clear, my truck was totally emissions legal for the entire time I owned it (I sold it quite some time ago). So, even though this particular test didn’t go as it was intended to go, I would have passed the test regardless. But this way was just a lot more fun!
BIG DUMMIES
By Trevor Hardwick
I guess it was 3 or 4 years ago,
I was loaded, rollin’ north.
Cruisin’ in my Peterbilt,
On my usual back-n-forth.
Coops were open at Cottonwood,
And CARB was checking trucks.
They pulled me out of line, I thought,
“Ain’t this just my luck?!”
Round the building… park in back,
And try to keep my cool.
I’m greeted by an older man,
And a kid right out of school.
“Fancy truck!” The old man said,
“What’s the model year?”
“Twenty-ten,” I offered back,
Annoyed that I was here.
He told me they were here to check,
The content of my smoke.
And I just had to follow,
The instructions that he spoke.
The kid held up a wand,
And placed a sensor in my stack.
And then they had me rev her up,
To see if she’d blow black.
A puzzled look fell on his face,
As he monitored his screen.
I guess he didn’t think that rig,
Could burn so squeaky-clean.
Rev it up again,” he said,
“Yes sir!” I hollered back.
While the younger of the two,
Still held that thing up in my stack.
Still no trace of soot or smoke,
I guess he just assumes.
A rig like this would surely push,
A lot of diesel fumes.
Three more times, I revved it up,
As per his request.
And then he looked defeated,
When he said I passed the test.
They pulled the sensor from my stack,
And sent me on my way.
I drove off with a secret,
That I kept from them, that day.
They were sniffing dummy stacks,
That know no heat, or sound.
And the factory-installed exhaust,
Was pointed toward the ground!
