Ebrahim
a braided essay
Read Time: 5 minutes. Read Time brought to you once again by the Ashburton Energy + Hair Logistics Group, in association with the Bradley Hills Bureau of Corrections + Housing.
New to the SternJourn? It’s a place where Julian (me) promotes shows; and talks about comedy, writing, productivity, and whatever the hell else he [I] want(s). Check out the best of 2025, 2024, 2022, 2021, or 2020 [I’ll get around to a best of 2023 at some point]!
How many Sternal Journals Behind is Julian This Year Tracker: 10.
Shows!
[Alpharetta, GA] Helium Comedy Club (Featuring for Sam Salem!) June 5-7.
[Pasadena, CA] Shart Tank at The Ice House. August 1.
[Future Shows] Fill out this form to lemme know what city you’re in if you wanna see me perform there! Takes 5 seconds!
Sternal Journalists,
What did I tell you? What did I tell you? I told you we would get back on track, and here we are a second Sunday in a row for the first time in ages. Nature is healing. It is a rebuilding year, and we are doing just that.
This week, I’m taking a stab at a braided essay. I learned about these in an essay writing class I took recently, and they’re fun because you find two disparate things—one is often personal history, and the other is an ostensibly stale non-fiction topic—and you see how they inform each other as you progress.
I cheated and/or put my own spin on it by just using a Wikipedia entry for the second half. It’s relevant, though. You’ll see. I reallllly think anyone with writer’s block should try a braided essay. Tell me what you think!
— — —
Ebrahim
Last week, I had to get my smog test done. It was overdue. Sometimes, you feel like you have to get a bunch of serious life stuff done, but when you squint and look real close, it’s actually just a bunch of tedious bullshit you have to check off while thinking about the serious life stuff. A bunch of errands standing on each other’s shoulders in a trench coat of maturity. That’s where I found this smog test or it found me. I looked on Google Maps and called the closest one that wasn’t already closed.
***
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The California Smog Check Program requires vehicles that were manufactured in 1976 or later to participate in the biennial (every two years) smog check program in participating counties.[1] The program’s stated aim is to reduce air pollution from vehicles by ensuring that cars with excessive emissions are repaired in accordance with federal and state guidelines.
***
“Yes, baba.” He answered the phone like a grandfather who was happy to be one. I don’t know if he is one; I just know that’s how he answered the phone. I didn’t actually track that he called me “baba” when he picked up, just that I heard something joyful I couldn’t quite parse. But based on the subsequent rate of “babas,” I’m pretty sure.
“Uhh, can I still do a smog check today? Or are you closing?”
“Yes, baba. Come in now. How long will you be?”
“Fifteen minutes?”
“See you soon.”
***
With some exceptions, gasoline-powered vehicles, hybrid vehicles, and alternative-fuel vehicles that are eight model-years old or newer are not required to participate; instead, these vehicles pay a smog abatement fee for the first 8 years in place of being required to pass a smog check. The eight-year exception does not apply to nonresident (previously registered out-of-state) vehicles being registered in California for the first time, diesel vehicles 1998 model or newer and weighing 14,000 lbs or less,[2][3] or specially constructed vehicles 1976 and newer.[3] The program is a joint effort between the California Air Resources Board, the California Bureau of Automotive Repair, and the California Department of Motor Vehicles.
***
“You said fifteen! It was ten!” He was happily pecking away at a computer on top of a tool cart. He said it the way someone who really fucking likes hosting speaks when the guests arrived early. I’m actually not sure if people exist like this anymore, but when I was a kid, it felt like there was a specific breed of family dinner party host who really didn’t care when you arrived; they were just thrilled to see you. That is how I was welcomed to my smog test. He chuckled and shook his head. “Sit, sit.”
***
A Smog Check is not required for electric vehicles, diesel-powered vehicles manufactured before 1998 or weighing over 14,000 lbs, trailers, motorcycles, or gasoline-powered vehicles 1975 or older.[4] In April 2015, hybrid vehicles became subject to smog check requirements.[5] Although vehicles 1975 and older or diesel vehicles 1997 or older are not required to get a smog check, owners of these vehicles must still ensure that their emissions systems are intact.[citation needed]
***
He pulled up a roll-y chair and handed me a water bottle wrapped in a paper towel while he ran the test. “Is this a turbo!?” he asked excitedly.
“Ummm. Maybe?” I said with the shame I have every time someone has asked me a question about a car in my care.
He popped the hood. “It is!” I still have no idea what that means. He ran the test and silently looked at the car while I watched. I could have pulled out my phone, and I probably would have, but for the fact that it was the most peaceful moment of my year so far.
***
Anyone wishing to sell a vehicle that is over four years old must first have a smog check performed. It is the seller’s responsibility to get the smog certificate prior to the sale. If the vehicle is registered in California and was acquired from a spouse, domestic partner, sibling, child, parent, grandparent, or grandchild it is exempt.[4]
Inspirations!
Taylor Swift. Okay, fine. This lady can write some songs. I knew it, but I was dog sitting my cousins’ beautiful dog Moose this weekend. Moose has a record player and I put on “Lover.” I found Cornelia Street particularly bangin.
Harambe. I reallllly liked the recent episode of “Pablo Torre Finds Out” about the 10-year-anniversary of the sad death of Harambe the gorilla. It’s got heart, it’s funny, it makes ya think.
Young Buck. I know Young Buck from a variety of hits, including “Money in the Bank (Shawty whatcha thank).” But perhaps because of the similarly named and epic DJ Felli Fel “Get Buck In Here,” I somehow missed his bouncy, braggadocios “Get Buck.” It’s a lot of fun and get’s me going.
Legends. I’m still watching this six-episode British series about a ragtag team of five undercover customs agents trying to take down two massive criminal enterprises pumping heroin into 90s UK, and it’s gotten flashier in a good way.
Alright, that’s all for now! Much love! If you’re in Atlanta, Please come see me!!!!
Julian!