Certification Jokes

Experience hours have a half-life. Log them this week, or half of them will have decayed by Friday.

Level III exams are open book. The answers are open to interpretation.

I passed the general exam and failed the specific one. Turns out being generally right is not a technique.

I treat my renewal date like a discontinuity. I find it, document it and never let it become a defect.

Taking the practical exam is like Penetrant Testing: you wait through the dwell time, and then everything you did wrong shows up in bright color.

I'm certified in two methods and uncertain about everything else.

The written practice is the one document everyone follows and nobody has ever read for fun.

I failed Magnetic Particle Testing the first time. The second time I was more attracted to the material.

The Level III exam asks you to 'discuss.' Discuss is Latin for 'keep writing until the proctor takes the paper away.'

The Level III basic exam is the only time 'basic' means 'covers everything ever written.'

The bubble sheet is the one place where a technician is encouraged to fill in the blanks completely.

Why did the Level I bring a ladder to the Level III's office?

What does a Level III say when you show him a rejectable indication?

Why did the technician ace the eye exam and still miss the discontinuity?

How many Level IIIs does it take to change a light bulb?

Why did the Level I look pale at the practical exam?

What's the difference between a Level II and a Level III?

Why did the Level III refuse to answer the multiple-choice question?

Why did the Level II study Snell's law the night before the exam?

Why did the technician photocopy her certification card nine times?

Why does every logbook have such tidy handwriting in December?

How long is a Level III's quick question?

Level I: working under direction. Level II: working under pressure. Level III: working under review.

A Level III knows every code and every exception, which is why a simple question is a two-hour commitment.

My eye exam is current, my hours are logged, and my certification card is in my wallet. Naturally, my wallet is in the truck at the other jobsite.

The practice says I need four hundred hours. It doesn't say how many can be spent waiting for the scaffold.

Nothing humbles a Level II like a Level I asking a question he can't answer.

Your certificate says you are qualified. Your knees say you earned it climbing scaffolds.

The most dangerous sentence in certification: 'I'll remember what I did on Tuesday.'

A Level II's best piece of equipment is a Level III's phone number.

A Level III never says 'I don't know.' She says 'Let me check the practice,' and you don't see her until Thursday.

You might be a Level III if your idea of a thrilling evening is rewriting a scope statement.

You might be a trainee if your logbook has more entries about waiting than about testing.

You might be a Level II if...

You might be an NDT tech if your wallet holds a certification card, a calibration sticker, and no cash.

The new Level II proudly showed the Level III an indication. 'Is this a defect?' The Level III studied it for a full minute. 'It's a discontinuity.' 'Is it a defect?' 'Let's find out.' He opened the code book. 'Rejected.' The Level II beamed. 'So I was right!' 'No,' said the Level III. 'The code was right. You were just standing near it.'

A Level III was asked to speak at a Level I graduation. He stood, surveyed the room, and said, 'Everything you learned this week is true, and every exception is on page four hundred.' Then he sat down. Nobody has ever given a more accurate speech.

'You have two hours,' said the proctor. Sam found all seven discontinuities in thirty minutes and spent the next ninety double-checking. He passed. Later the proctor told the Level III, 'He had every answer right away. He just couldn't trust it.' The Level III nodded. 'That comes after the first rejected report.'

Pat's logbook had a blank week because the job was rained out. His boss asked what he'd done. 'Watched the weather.' 'You can't log that.' 'Waited on the forecast.' 'Can't log that either.' 'Then I'll log the other thing I did all week,' said Pat. 'Practicing patience. I'm basically a Level III in it.'

Level III (n.): A person who knows the answer, the exception to the answer, and the committee that argued about the exception.

Experience Hours (n.): The only measurement in NDT that has no calibration block and is still expected to be accurate to the quarter hour.

Recertification (n.): The five-year reminder that you are not as current as you remember.

Eye Exam (n.): A test proving you can read fine print, a skill you will use for the rest of your career against your will.

Knock knock.
Who's there?
Exam.
Exam who?

Knock knock.
Who's there?
Level.
Level who?

Knock knock.
Who's there?
Renew.
Renew who?

There once was a Level III sage
Who had memorized every page.
When you asked her to rule,
She would say, calm and cool,
'It depends on the edition's age.'

Logbook, blank again.
Tonight I'll copy my notes
from the field notebook.

The Level I asked, 'Where's the answer key?'
The Level II said, 'It's in there, you'll see.'
The Level III said, 'It depends,'
And that's where the lesson ends,
With a brand-new edition for free.

Are you my experience hours? Because I'd log every minute with you, even the ones spent waiting.

Are you my certification card? Because I never leave home without you, and I'm in trouble if you expire.

Are you a Jaeger chart? Because the closer I get, the better I can read you.

Nobody warns you that the hardest part of certification isn't the exam. It's the signed letter from your employer saying you're allowed to take it.

Ever notice the Level III is always the calmest person at a failure? That's not wisdom. That's the third time she's seen it.

Ever notice every technician remembers one exam question forever, and it's always the one they got wrong?

How do you know an audit has started?

Audit Findings (n.): The only things an inspector hopes not to find.

Bridge steel has been carrying trucks since before I was certified and has never once asked for continuing education.

Why did the wind technician bring a copy of her certifications to the base of the tower?

Are you a first article? Because I'd check every single dimension and still find you perfect.

Rail inspectors have an easy time making decisions. They just follow the line.

I passed my color vision test with flying colors. Technically, that's the only way to pass it.

Why does every inspector's New Year's resolution start with 'find my certification card'?

My eye exam is renewed, my hours are logged, and the year is eleven days old. I have peaked.

You might be an NDT tech if your New Year's resolution is to find your certification card, and you have made it every year since you got it.

Dana resolved to renew her certification early this year. On January 2nd she opened the folder and found her eye exam record, her hours log, and a sticky note in her own handwriting: 'Do this in January.' She stared at it for a minute, then picked up the phone and booked the exam. The sticky note, for the first time in its life, went in the trash.

Resolution (n.): A January promise to read the whole new edition, renewed every year without opening it.

Ever notice that the recertification deadline is a year away until it's three weeks away, and then it's the only thing anyone talks about?

Why was the Level III the calmest person on audit day?

'Where is the written practice?' asked the auditor. The new Level II pointed at the shelf. 'And the current revision?' He pointed at the binder. 'And the evidence that everyone has read it?' He opened the training record: eighty signatures, each dated the day that person read the current revision.

Our Level III is a lot like a back wall echo.

My mentor handed me a half-inch steel block and said, 'Tell me what's in there.' I scanned for an hour. 'Nothing,' I said. He nodded. 'Good. Now tell me how you know.' That was the longest exam I ever took.

The instructor asked what happens to sound at a steel-to-air boundary. A student said, 'Almost all of it reflects.' 'Why?' 'Because the air isn't interested.' The instructor wrote that on the board and underlined it.

A good Magnetic Particle inspector has a field of expertise and a strong sense of direction.

A new inspector applied penetrant, waited the dwell time, washed it off with great enthusiasm, applied developer, and found nothing. 'Did I miss anything?' she asked. The Level II looked at the part, then at the drain. 'Not anymore,' he said. 'You washed it all away.'

Nobody warns you that explaining the difference between a relevant and a nonrelevant indication takes longer than finding it.

I wanted to be a Visual Testing inspector, but I just couldn't see myself doing it.

The auditor held up the reference block. "When was this last verified?" The technician found the certificate in a binder, in a drawer, in a box labeled "misc." "Last month," he said. "It's been resting ever since."

The new technician reported forty indications on his first day. "They're all geometry," said the senior inspector. "The root, the counterbore, and the edge of the weld face." "But they're there," said the new technician. "Yes," said the senior inspector. "First lesson: being there is not the same as being relevant."

You might be a Level III if you've been asked 'Is it okay?' by someone who didn't read the procedure.

You might be a Level II if your boss says 'You've got this' right before assigning someone else's job.

Are you a pin-and-hanger assembly? Because I'd check on you every two years, and you'd still be the most important connection I have.

The bridge inspector refused to join the committee. He said he already does enough pier review.

The first-article report has twelve pages, forty dimensions, and one signature that took three weeks.

What's the first thing a Level III checks in the new edition?

Knock knock.
Who's there?
Edition.
Edition who?

Ever notice that the best conversation at a conference happens in the hallway, ten feet from the session you paid to attend?

Our records are completely traceable.

Observation (n.): An audit finding that isn't a nonconformance yet, but has the energy of one.

Ever notice the week before an audit is the only week the label maker runs out of tape?