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I work with a tree hugger. I guess I should say that I don’t hate her, but rather I hate her point of view. While that’s true, it’s just so easy to hate her.

My birthday is Friday, so, in the great state of Georgia, that means it’s time for vehicle registration. I drive an old car, so car taxes are almost nothing. But emissions testing, that’s a different issue altogether. See, the tree huggers have made it so that I have to pay to make sure that my car doesn’t somehow bring about the end of civilization because of what it emits.

Last year I spent $500 making my 92 Explorer pass emissions testing. Today wasn’t as bad - $225 total. But the emissions testing fails where it is most needed. People who drive new cars, who have them modified for performance, are causing more damage to our atmosphere than I am, but they aren’t forced into the emissions testing until their cars are a few years old.

The other place emissions testing fails us is in the really old cars. That 1965 Mustang you see driving up Cobb Parkway while spewing black smoke is also exempt from emission testing.

So why is it that I, with a fairly maintained vehicle, new enough to be practical yet old enough to be completely mine, get stuck with this headache of a birthday present from my state’s government? It’s because the tree huggers hate me as much as I hate them.