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The Art of C.G. Jung’s Red Book An Exhibition Sponsored by Pacifica Graduate Institute Free & Open to the Public thru May 4 | 801 Ladera Ln., Santa Barbara

Extended by Popular Demand through May 4

Images from The Red Book by C.G. Jung used by permission of W. W. Norton & Company. Inc.


The collection 23 fine art prints from C.G. Jung’s Red Book currently on display at Pacifica Graduate Institute was originally shown at the Venice Biennale in Italy. This is its first showing in the United States. When Jung embarked on an extended period of self-exploration, The Red Book was at the heart of it. It is an illuminated volume that he created between 1914 and 1930 where he developed his theories of the archetypes, the collective unconscious, and the process of indi-

viduation. These theories transformed psychotherapy from a practice concerned with treating the sick into a means for higher development of the personality. Jung considered The Red Book his most important work, yet it lay unseen in a bank vault for decades. Then, in 2009, a complete facsimile and translation was published. It is an astonishing example of calligraphy and art on a par with The Book of Kells and the illuminated manuscripts of William Blake.

Limited edition fine art prints of drawings from the Red Book are available through the Pacifica Bookstore or online at

This free exhibit is open to the public through May 4, 2014, 7 days a week, from 8:00am to 10:00pm at Pacifica’s Ladera Lane Campus, 801 Ladera Lane in Santa Barbara. Call 805.969.3626, ext. 103 for additional information or visit

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Mazza’s Missive – EIC Matt actually wrote and published a book about travel and family and life. Trust us, if he can do it, any of you “writers” out there can.

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The Beer Guy – Zach Rosen says the brew isn’t just for dudes anymore; chicks, apparently, dig beer, too. (We don’t believe you Zach. But whatever.)

It’s Crimetime – Man arrested for not smoking pot; a day at AAA gone bad. People, man, they’re all criminals. L etter to the Editor – Our shortest Letters section in a long, long time… but the one that’s there is important to every living person living in Santa Barbara. (Yes, we intended the double “living” there.)

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 15 Days a Week – The Jeremy Harbin comedy hour. We think it’s safe to say that no calendar writer on the planet enjoys his or her job as much as Jeremy. (Publisher Tim, we think a pay decrease is in order.)

S anta Barbara View – Terrific piece on the nuances of social issues by Sharon Byrne; another terrific piece on homelessness in town by Loretta Redd. (Nice work this week, ladies, thanks.)  Man About Town – Mark Léisuré wrote a whole column on just one event: The Lucidity Festival. We actually enjoyed it, too. And we are looking into a massive purchase of hallucinogenic compounds and a campsite. Let’s get weird at Live Oak Campground.

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 In the Zone – Tommie Vaughn sets her sights on backyard chickens, In the Zone. (Wait, are chickens still cool? We thought that ducks and turkeys were kind of the new thing. Maybe we’re wrong.)  Pump It – News flash: Jenny Schatzle is high-intensity for a period of time. (Or something like that.) Just go do her super-workout this week and feel better about yourself. Don’t just change your body, change your life.

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Stylin’ & Profilin’ – Megan Waldrep spends an afternoon with SeaVees head designer, Steven Tiller, and learns a bit more about the local lifestyle shoe brand. (Thanks Megan, nice work.) Mad Science – Rachelle Oldmixon should’ve been an archaeologist. Then she’d know more about the Bubonic Plague. (We don’t really understand the whole science thing, so this was the best we could do this week.)

 State Street Scribe – Little baby Jeffie wrote a column about his Mommy. And it’s good. Really good. So enjoy. The Weekly Capitalist – Little baby Jeffie wrote a column about his Mommy. Wait… sorry, that was another Jeffie. Jeffie Harding wrote a column about war and why we often have it all wrong. Hey Jeff, you’re taking positions that seem to be wildly incongruent with your public persona as a lunatic Republican. What gives?

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In the Garden with Mr. Greenjeans – Randy Arnowitz. Drought stuff. Water meters. Watering logistics.

 Girl About Town – Julie Bifano apparently wants a new hairdo, so she went to the Four Seasons to celebrate the opening of Jose Eber’s new salon. (Hey, EIC Matt needs a new hairdo, too. We’re thinking some extensions or a weave, maybe some feathering and dyeing. Make him real hot, hyper sexual, like a horny lion on the African savannah. Put him in a cowboy hat and a loincloth. You get the idea, Jose?)

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 Cut. Chew. Eat. Repeat. – Say Cheese. C’est Cheese. We don’t get it. But that BLTGC from the eponymous restaurant sure looks good. Thanks Jackie De Longe, we’ll be there.


Shop Girl – Kateri Wozny does what she does best: She cures a melancholy stressed out day with shopping in Carpinteria. And that glass of champagne at Seastrand Boutique helps melt all her troubles away. (Wait, this is a column about shopping, right? It’s not the benefits of mid-afternoon alcohol binges… or is it? Kateri?)

 Keepin’ It Reel – The good news is that James Luksic actually liked a few films this week. (Yay.) The bad news is that he is now being vilified by the religious right for his favorable comments about Noah. (Uh-oh.)

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You Have Your Hands Full – Mara Peters goes skiing with Osama bin Charlie and his fervent followers (aka the Peters family). And she lives to tell about it.

 The Santa Barbara Skinny – Puppies, pillows and flowers. Any self-respecting man who still has a pair should not read this. Food File – Not much to say here beyond we are going to Tsukemono for sushi ASAP. Well, right after a sandwich at Three Pickles and a cocktail at the Pickle Room. Sounds great. Thanks Christina Enoch for the story.

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MAZZA’S  MISSIVE by Matt Mazza

Pub Crawl


’ve learned a few things about Santa Barbara over the past 18 months in my role as Editor-in-Chief of this fine publication. Not least among them is the fact that our town is home to more damned writers than perhaps anywhere on the planet. There’re a hell of a lot of photographers, too. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that a full 95% (or more) of all Santa Barbarans produce content in one form or another, and they all have at least one thing in common. They all want to get their stuff published. We’ve not only been inundated, absolutely inundated, with a deluge of column concepts and requests – some good, some, well… not so much – but I’ve also repeatedly been asked about agency and representation issues and publishers and publishing and self-publishing and blogging and newspapers and magazines and all sorts of things I once knew absolutely nothing about. Recent events have enlightened me, even if only a little bit, about the publishing world, however,

so I thought I’d take the opportunity to talk directly to one perhaps underserved population here in town: All you damned writers who don’t know what the hell is going on with publishing and selfpublishing but would like to get their bearings. What qualifies me to offer at least some insight, you ask? What have I done that might be helpful in the slightest? After almost two years, I finally published a book I’ve been working on. And I did it all by myself. (Well, that’s not entirely true, but it’s close. Let me explain.)

A Brief History

I think many of you reading know that the Sentinel was born from an extended trip my family and I took around the world a couple years back. We closed my law practice and took off on an adventure of a lifetime, really. There was no formal plan other than to spend time together

and experience the world. That we did. Before we left, we were consistently asked whether our daughters, then aged six and three, would remember their time in the far corners. That freaked Wendi and me out a bit, so we decided to keep a simple blog that we could share with the girls when they were older. That blog turned into something more than we ever intended. It was read by people all over Santa Barbara – and the world, really – and was a lot of fun for me to write. It turned into a cover for the biannual Montecito Journal Glossy Edition, a separate but related weekly column for the esteemed Montecito Journal and, eventually, into other publishing opportunities and indeed this very paper. This paper, in turn, resulted in all sorts of writing projects and relationships that I never in a million years envisioned. Life is funny, as I’ve said. It’s unpredictable. I’d always considered publishing the blog, in one form or another, as a book; it’s a fun story that actually lends itself, in my humble opinion, to that particular medium, and it resonated pretty broadly. So I set about the business of getting the thing published. When I look back now, it’s funny to think how little I knew about what I was trying to do.

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I’m An Impatient Stubborn Nincompoop

My first steps were, predictably, reaching out to people who I thought may have some idea of how something gets published. Most of them – at least some of who actually are published, commercially successful writers – had thoughts and comments about how to rewrite what was, luckily, almost universally seen as a good story. I could start it here and end it there, they’d suggest, I could embellish this or fictionalize that or just make the whole damned thing up or whatever. For me, though, I liked the project as it was, quirks and all. It’s honest, I thought, and the story is true… why change it? That’s just how I see it, even still, and I think that’s what makes the whole thing fun. It wasn’t that I wanted to avoid the hard work of a rewrite – you’ve all seen how many words I’m happy to spew forth – it was just that I wanted to put out the real story, told as it happened. One suggestion I repeatedly received was that I should be querying agents to see if I could get some representation and a book deal. And the way to get started in that world, I was told, was to subscribe to the Writers Market, research agents to find the right fit and start writing letters. ...continued p.18


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...with the SBPD

A variety of crimes are committed every day in Santa Barbara; most of these crimes are petty but they do offer a window into if not the soul of the perpetrator, at least his or her thought process. Our following (and totally unsolicited) thoughts, observations and comments are put forth for your consideration.

Man Arrested for Likely Not Smoking Marijuana by Officer Who Likely Does Smoke Marijuana



ere’s something you don’t hear every day: A local man in his 30s was arrested on a marijuana charge for having “not a single bong, pipe, hitter, bubbler, grinder, filter or roiling paper.” (The officer who wrote the report from which that quote was taken is definitely a burner… that’s a powerfully poetic proclamation of pot paraphernalia.) Instead, SBPD busted him for a large bag of more than 21 grams of dope – mostly consisting of “large buds” (told you, this cop tokes the hippie lettuce) – and, using a pretty solid dose of deductive reasoning, determined that he was selling it over the man’s claims of possessing the giant super-buds for (admittedly extensive) personal use. The total dearth of the foregoing paraphernalia was one of the key facts officers used to reach their conclusion. So, too, were the facts that he also had a weed-dust covered digital scale (“I weigh my pot” before I blaze hard, the man said) and lots of cash in three different rolls (I pay myself for dime bags, he argued). But the fuzz wasn’t buying any of it. Not from this guy, anyway. We know there’s a lesson in here somewhere, but we’re too baked from a gnarly contact high to figure it out. Oh wait, here it is: Pot dealers, if you’re going to tell the cops you puff hay all day, then you’d better have the bong and grinder to prove it.

A Series of Unfortunate Events He started his day nice and easy, just looking for some quality vehicle and roadside assistance programs. Seems simple enough, right? Wrong. A 53-year-old Santa Barbara man went to AAA one morning last biweek. Rather than just conduct his car-related business and be on his merry way, however, he was distracted by a woman’s purse he found under a desk in the office. So he stole it. In fact, he walked it out to the parking lot and took cash – more than $800 of the stuff – as well as credit cards and a cell phone and other valuable things. Then he threw the purse and the rest of its contents all over the AAA parking lot. Nice call. (It was turned into the office by a Good Samaritan a short while later.) A shopping spree ensued. $330 at a local head shop for a bubbler and grinder (toker for sure); almost $20 in Virginia Slims smokes (classy); a fancy car stereo, some powerful speakers and a subwoofer (he didn’t actually get that stuff since the stereo guys were suspicious, especially of the demand to install everything “right now”); a variety of power tools (not purchased; he just stole them while he was waiting at the stereo shop). You know, pretty standard stuff. Standard stuff that we see all the time and that will 100% absolutely get you caught. These credit card and purse thieves are just not too hip to the whole 21st century technological Big Brother thing. You can’t run around using stolen credit cards and people’s identification these days. You will be caught. And, sure enough, our friend was busted in mid-spree. Here are a few of the things he told the cops as he was being Miranda-ized:

@T H E N E I G H B O R HO O DS B #H OO DB A R8 05

• “I was wrong I admit it… I thought I could get away with it.” • “I knew I shouldn’t have done it, but I did.” • “I used poor judgment.” • “I don’t think straight and I do stupid [horse manure].” Hmmm… for being such a moron, this guy really nailed the dejected post-arrest adverse admissions part of the whole thing. Wow. He also told cops that he’s been arrested previously in Santa Barbara for stealing cell phones from Casa Esperanza (now that’s low) and had at least one other prior theft arrest on the East Coast. We hate this type of crime. It’s a huge pain for the victim (think changing credit card and banking account numbers and all associated automatic payments, dealing with fraudulent charges, etc.) and the crook never gets a damn thing (except jail time). So stop stealing purses. It’s a lose-lose.  

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Although you might not believe it, we actually want to hear from you. So if you have something you think we should know about or you see something we've said that you think is cretinous (or perspicacious, to be fair), then let us know. There's no limit on words or subject matter, so go ahead and let it rip to: Santa Barbara Sentinel, Letters to the Editor, 133 East De La Guerra Street, No. 182, Santa Barbara, California 93101. You can also leap into the 21st century and email us at

Come on Bureaucrats, We Can Handle the Truth


ewer plants generate pathogenladen aerosols that drift into the community. Sprinkler systems using recycled sewer water (e.g., on area parks and school yards) generate large drifting pathogen aerosols, ranging 1000+ meters, much farther than just across the street. Direct studies on recycled water document pathogens in numbers too large to count. The City of Santa Barbara knows this and still does nothing. This puts the neighborhoods surrounding city parks and schools at enhanced risk. While the city is disinclined to openly discuss these issues, it also claims to have a coordinated emergency plan in the event of a related incident. So we asked the city clearly, “What does your emergency contingency plan look like, and what other agencies are involved? Please show us how it rolls out.” On review, it turns out that there is no plan at all. Either the city does not know its own system (worrisome) or it is being seriously disingenuous with its citizens. We first started looking at the city

sewer system back around 2001 and the city’s sewer mains were badly broken up and seriously leaking. We traced pathogenic bacteria from increased sewage leaks into storm drains, thence to the beach, making them risky. The city ignored these findings. The Castillo main from Cottage Hospital leaked. Hospitals are known serious generators of pathogens. Those leaks set up a serious public health risk with adjacent Mission Creek. The city denied any of this repeatedly, even though we supplied data. Then we discovered the city’s own engineering studies that confirmed the sewer mains were badly broken and leaking raw sewage, and we also found that the city had been flatly lying to our faces on this issue. It was not until a university study a decade later documented the same issues and Santa Barbara Channelkeeper took the city to court that the problem was addressed. If this is any measure of the city’s concern for its citizens, it will be a long time before pathogen-loaded aerosols are seriously addressed. We reviewed coordination between the



city and county on public health issues. This included the county’s capacity to deal with waterborne disease outbreaks. An appointment to discuss this with the County Public Health Officer was canceled. His second-in-command some time later called and stated that the topic had been switched over to Environmental Health Services (EHS). A few weeks went by for EHS to get its own chain of command figured out – who was responsible among the various agencies? Interestingly, one wonders how this might work if a raging disease were circulating within the community. The head of EHS met with us and some time later decided that it was not a county thing; perhaps one might contact the state. The local state agency (regional office) decided it was something better handled in Sacramento. While everyone was busy kicking the can down the road, we asked the public health lab for the county if [someone] could even conduct the necessary tests to determine antibiotic-resistance pathogens in the water supply? Their answer: No. Is the citizens’ right to health rendered virtually meaningless by bureaucratic inaction? If so, how do you feel about your representative government and the taxes you pay for protecting your health? Dr. Edo McGowan, Medical Geohydrology Montecito (Editor’s Note: You’ve been one of our most consistent letter writers from the beginning,

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Dr. McGowan, and I sincerely appreciate the time and effort you’ve put into an issue that has huge potential consequences not only for obviously important public health issues but also for budgetary and infrastructure concerns. I hate to reference Ayn Rand here again, but the constant bureaucratic kicking of the proverbial can/obvious desire to shun responsibility smacks of the bumbling fools of Taggart Transcontinental, James Taggart and his friends and colleagues. I’d hate to see somebody get sick as a consequence of the use of recycled water, especially when the issue has been raised repeatedly by a qualified and concerned citizen; I’d hate also to see what an aggressive plaintiff’s lawyer might do to the city under the circumstances given its apparent indifference. Is there a problem here or not? Is it worth looking at in more detail or not? Can anybody answer Dr. McGowan? A calculated failure and refusal to respond to an important issue of public concern can be just as damning as an intentional misstatement. Or maybe there’s just nothing here important enough to require a response. For me, at this point, I’d just like to hear that we’ve looked into Dr. McGowan’s concerns. And I’d like to know what we’ve found, whether good, bad or ugly. If we aren’t looking at any of this stuff, then please tell me that someone with relevant experience has made a reasonable judgment call, and tell me the thinking behind the non-action. Is that so damned hard? – MSM)


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by Zach Rosen


Beer, Brewsters and Hop Tarts


uick! Picture a beer drinker. There’s a good chance that the person who you just imagined was a male. Unfortunately, multi-million-dollar ad campaigns from gargantuan breweries have long been directed toward the male market and have implanted the idea of beer as a “manly” beverage in the public’s mind. While modern marketing firms have engrained the image of beer as a maledominated drink, this has not always been the case. Many cultures have associated beer with women. The ancient Sumerians not only created beer but also had a deity for the beverage. Ninkasi was the goddess of beer and her nine children were all named after an alcoholic beverage or one of their intoxicating effects. In South America, female chicha brewers form in groups that are far better than any quilting circle. These women sit around a communal pot, chewing ground corn. The enzymes in their saliva convert the simple starches of the corn into sugar. They then spit out the maize and form it into a small ball before placing it into the pot. These cornballs are dried, and then

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Zach Rosen is a Certified Cicerone® and beer educator living in Santa Barbara. He uses his background in chemical engineering and the arts to seek out abstract expressions of beer and discover how beer pairs with life.

mixed with water to form a porridge that is then boiled and fermented with yeast. That’s the gist of the process, anyway. The production of chicha is a much more subtle art than women hawking loogies into a spitoon. If you’re interested in learning more, then I suggest you watch the second episode of Brew Masters from Discovery Channel for a better understanding of the story. Regardless, perhaps no story is more interesting – or more important – than the



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Santa Barbara’s own Hop Tarts celebrating and toasting the brew they made with wort and whiskey. (That Hop Tart Saison is delicious, too. Nice work Hot Parts, er, ah, Hop Tarts!)

tale of the English ale-wives, or brewsters (the female form of the word brewer). This is not a tale of beer as much as it is a tale about ale. Today we think of beer as being divided between ales and lagers; the distinguishing factor is the type of yeast used. Go back about 500 years and the debate was all about ale versus beer. An ale was composed of water, malt and yeast. The term beer meant that the beverage also included hops.

The Female Tale of Ale

Our story begins with death, and quite a bit of it. The Bubonic Plague in 1348-50 significantly changed the ale market in England. (Check out Rachelle Oldmixon’s Mad Science column this week on the Black Death on page 26… what a bizarre Sentinel-esque coincidence.) In the 1300s, brewing was a domestic task overseen by the lady of the house. Brewsters were composed of females from lots of different socioeconomic classes. Many females would brew enough ale to fulfill their family’s requirements, but extra ale could also be sold to neighboring homes. This provided an infrequent way of earning income for many unmarried, married or widowed women. Women could brew in their free time and provide an additional revenue source for the household. For some brewsters, ale was the primary form of income for their home. This was pre-1348. When the Black Death came knocking, there was a much smaller population in England. Although there were fewer people to supply with ale, the remaining persons had a better standard of living, and with this came a noticeable increased desire for ale. So much so that ale began to replace cider and milk consumption. Before the Black Death, most brewsters would sell their ale directly to the consumer. As demand increased in the years following the plague, an ever-

growing wholesale market began to form in England. Brewsters (and brewers) were able to sell more ale and this led to a more industrialized, structured brewing trade. Infrequent brewsters would occasionally brew and then sell their ale to earn some income. This class of brewsters were most often unmarried and widowed women. Bigger breweries required more capital and these groups of women were forced out of the market since their access to cash or credit was limited. This led to the remaining females in the ale industry being almost entirely composed of married women. Running a large brewery required more business and marketing practices. The laws in those days gave men a clear advantage in both of these fields. Husbands, thus, began to handle brewery operations, and wives were forced “behind the scenes” of these industrialized breweries.

Alien Brewers

The introduction of beer to England during the 15th and 16th century sealed the brewsters’ fate. Hops are a preservative, so beer lasted longer than ale. This allowed beer to be made in larger quantities that could be transported farther. Beer exaggerated the effects of the Black Death on the industry by creating an even bigger need for larger, more industrialized, breweries. Beer was brought to the area by the “Dutch.” (This term refers to not just those from Holland but also Germans and people from the Low Countries.) It was seen as an alien beverage and was opposed by English nationalists as harsh, bitter and barbaric. John Taylor, the English poet, called “the Dutch boorish liquor,” beer, “a saucy intruder into this [England] land.” Because of the resistance toward beer, the beer industry consisted almost entirely of the “Dutch.” Beer brewers mostly hired Dutch employees and almost all of the ...continued p.15

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A P R I L 5 – 1 9 | 2 0 1 4


15•Days• a•Week We Ain’t Got Nothin’ But Love, Babe…

by Jeremy Harbin

Want to be a part of Fifteen Days A Week?

Space is limited, but if you have an event, exhibit, performance, book signing, sale, opening, trunk show or anything else interesting or creative that readers can attend, let us know at 805-845-1673 or email us at We’ll consider all suggestions, but we will give extra consideration to unusual events and/or items, especially those accompanied by a good visual, particularly those that have yet to be published.

Saturday April 5

Pure Poetry

Oh! Hi! Didn’t see you there. (Does that line not work in print?) It feels like it’s been… what, maybe two weeks since we last met? Just the right amount of time if you ask me. I mean, I love you – I really do – but you just start to get kind of annoying when we hang out more often than that, and I feel like I start to get on your nerves, too. So let’s just keep this casual, yeah? What we have going now – you read, I write about events like today’s poetry reading – works. So just go to Antioch University (602 Anacapa Street) this afternoon at 1pm for the fifth season of the Mission Poetry Series and enjoy yourself. Take your mind off things while you listen to host Paul Fericano and poets Teddy Macker, Phil Taggart and Friday Lubina.

Sunday April 6

Music From Around the World

types of peanut butter on the market, not for anything to do with the stock market, if ya know what I’m saying. That said, you might consider heeding my advice on this money matter: Go to the Goleta library (500 North Fairview Avenue) today at 6pm to hear all about home foreclosure. It’s presented by the Legal Aid Foundation of Santa Barbara County and SurePath Financial Solutions and it’s free to attend.

Tuesday April 8

Swan Fake

“Hilarious ballet” is a seeming oxymoron used in the press release for the event I’m about to tell you about. The all-male troupe is called Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo, and they do parodies of famous ballet numbers. Sounds like a lot of fun for the type of smart person who likes to laugh loudly at every literary reference in a latter-day Woody Allen movie. You know, the kind of laughter that doesn’t say “I’m enjoying myself” as much as it says “I want everyone to know that I understand that reference.” Look, when it comes down to it, maybe I’m just jealous; I wouldn’t know a parody of a famous ballet if it hit me below the tutu with a pair of pink slippers. But please don’t let me stop you over-educated sophisticates from enjoying the show: 8 tonight; the Granada (1214 State Street); tickets $35 to $45, $18 for students; www.

Wednesday April 9

Grammy Winner Alert

The artist performing in tonight’s concert at in UCSB’s Campbell Hall is a Grammy winner, but, really, who hasn’t won a Grammy these days? I mean, even I’ve been nominated, and that was for my hard-hitting club music that was only released in Japan on laser disc in the ‘90s. (Those were good times.) So who cares about a Grammy? You know, just once I’d like to see an artist take their Grammy up on stage with them at a concert – maybe set it on a stool and put a little spotlight on it, for the entire duration of the show. But no one does that. The artists don’t care and we don’t care (only P.R. people care), so when you go see The Assad Family tonight at 8pm, do it because you love the Brazilian songbook, not because there’s a Grammy winner onstage. The Family will play folk and pop songs from some of Brazil’s most notable musicians. Get your tickets ($25 to $40; $15 for students) at Music makes the people come together, so sang Madonna in her song “Music,” which you probably already recognized as the crowning achievement of her now 70-year career. She continues: Music, mix the bourgeoisie and the rebel. Which one are you Santa Barbara? Which one are you?! (I like to think I’m a little bit of both.) So come together right now over some music by attending today’s event at the Granada Theatre (1214 State Street) at 3pm. It’s called the International Music Festival: Celebrate Freedom Event Act I, and it’s brought to you by too many local orgs to name here. You know what? Let’s be crazy for once in our lives and just name them: Santa Barbara Music & Arts Conservatory, Direct Relief, The United Boys & Girls Club of Santa Barbara, Intensive Heart Ventures and Artists for Human Rights. Expect everything from Caribbean Reggae to Classical. Get more information at

Monday April 7

Money Matters

I write a calendar for a living. Let that sink in. My main source of income is the thing you’re skimming over right now. And it happens every two weeks. So I might not be the best person to tell you all about National Money Smart Week, if ya dig. You should be coming to me for advice on the cheapest

Thursday April 10

Free Entertainment

This one’s for tomorrow night. There, I said it. I usually come up with some contrived conceit to explain why you’re getting an entry for the next day on the day before, but not this time. I respect you too much. I know that you’d just see right through it. So take it easy tonight so that you can go check out tomorrow’s opening night of Elements Theatre Collective’s Aspirations: A Musical Revue. It’s about some performers watching the Tony Awards together and putting on their own living-room versions of all your faves. See it for free at 8pm tomorrow at the Unitarian Society of Santa Barbara (1535 Santa Barbara Street). After that, the show will be staged in various venues across the city, so head to for a full listing.

Friday April 11

Remembering Huell

It feels right to include today’s Tree Dedication Ceremony in Memory of Huell Howser in this calendar. That’s mostly because I consider calendar writing to be a stepping stone to my future career as host of a California’s Gold-style television show set in Santa Barbara. I figure I’ll eventually swing writing about the events into covering the events and then, I dunno, start bringing a TV camera with me or something (I didn’t pay much attention while earning my Film and Television Degree from the Phoenix University Mail-In Division). But more to the point, if you’d like to see the ceremony – with its rare opportunity to spot our elusive mayor – show up to the lawn of the Mission (2201 Laguna Street) at noon today. It’s free and there will be refreshments.

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Omnipresence and Arts Walks

All This Jazz

April 12

For those who might be new to this calendar, I’d like to point out that when I said Mayor Schneider is elusive back in that last entry, I was using what all major 15-Days heads call Classic 8-Days Sarcasm. (Wait… What? Eight days? That’s a story for another time.) You see, Mayor Schneider is literally – yes, literally; I stand by my use of the word here – everywhere. Sure, she’s at every event, gala, opening, ribbon cutting, reception, ball, dinner, lunch, luncheon, fun run, dedication and fundraiser. But she’s also everywhere else, all the time – like a mystical god-mayor who watches over us. Try it out for yourself: go to the Funk Zone Second Saturday Arts Walk tonight and see if she’s there. Start at the Arts Fund Gallery (205C Santa Barbara Street); I bet you’ll see her shaking hands with artists Patrick Gilbert and Maria Rendon. Check out for more info.

Sunday April 13

Seriously Symphony

If you attend the Santa Barbara Symphony’s presentation of Beethoven’s Symphony Number Seven at 3pm today at the Granada (1214 State Street), you might just be saving lives. What?! Huh?! Come again now? That’s right; this is a life-and-death matter. I wouldn’t detune your trombone and tell you your ears are clogged. Wise up: each time a Sunday symphonic matinee goes without a capacity audience, according to the Secret Book of Saint Barbara (look out for a Jeff Wing piece on this soon), the Council of Gold Coast God Mayors smites an inland community you’ve never visited. You don’t want that now, do you? Probably not. So you better just go to and get your tickets now. There was also a performance last night at 8pm (no ancient curse on Saturday night shows, though).

Monday April 14

Westmont Moons Us

As you know, this calendar only culls events that will maximize the attention paid to you on your favorite social media site. Tonight’s is no different. Just imagine the Likes and emoji-only responses you’ll get when you Instagram a pic of the Lunar Eclipse, the first in two years. Here are some sample captions to accompany your iPhone shot that you should feel free to use: “At the lunar eclipse viewing at Westmont #wow #life”; “Never seen the moon look quite like this LOL #blessed #serenity”; “Super glad I read in the Sentinel about this free event at the Westmont Observatory (955 La Paz Road) that starts at 10:30pm and ends at 2am #15days #bestcalendar #sexycalendarwriter”.

Tuesday April 15

Letter From a Friend

Last year, I occasionally reprinted your letters here. By popular demand, I give you the latest from the biggest 15 Days fan in Santa Barbara County Prison, Jerry Herdin: Dear 15 Days, Wow. What a year it’s been so far for the Sentinel and everyone’s favorite calendar, 15 Days a Week. I can’t wait to get out of prison so I can attend an event. Anywho, I just wanted to write in with a suggestion. I think your readers would enjoy spending time at The Neighborhood (235 West Montecito Street), on a Tuesday evening perhaps. There, they can get good food and great beer and even have some fun playing beer pong on the back patio. See you there! (In a few years.) Love, Jerry Herdin Santa Barbara

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April 16

Jazz is hard. What do these jazz people mean when they talk about “the space between the notes”? Uhhhm… wouldn’t that just be silence? Get a grip, decades of learned critics and master jazz artists; I think I speak for everyone when I say we prefer our music to be played by rockers with guitars and drums fighting to fill every possible space with a shredding solo or blazing snare roll. But if you’re one of the few still curious to see what this jazz thing’s all about, then you might want to boogie on down to the Deane Chapel on the Westmont campus (955 La Paz Road) at 8pm tonight to see the Westmont Jazz Ensemble Spring Concert. They’ll cover all kinds of sub-genres equally as confounding as the genre they fall under. It’s free.

Thursday April 17

Hoarders Take Note

This one’s for all you weirdos out there who haven’t thrown anything away since 1992: De-clutter expert Tracy McCubbin will teach you how to de-clutter (note that I did not refer to this person first with the descriptor “self-proclaimed”; but, honestly, it’s only because I got a very angry phone call the last time I did that). So here’s what you do: Start by clearing a path from where you are now on your couch to the hallway where you keep your clothes. After putting on something real nice, go back the way you came, take a left at the pile of old milk cartons, continue past your collection of Nascar memorabilia and walk out the front door. The lecture is at 11am today at The Samarkand (2550 Treasure Drive). Register at And thanks for archiving every issue of the Sentinel, but please go see Tracy for the emotional support to finally put them in the recycling bin.

Friday April 18

Arts and Conjectures

I want to be an artist, but let’s face it, folks: We’re not all living the dream, are we? You think I want to be writing this calendar? Of course not. I want to be doing something worth someone else writing a calendar entry about. Drummers wanna be front men. The left fielder wants to step onto the mound. The stage hand started out in theater school wanting to act. C’est la vie. Until I do become an artist and fulfill my dreams (which I’m working on; I bought some paint last month and have a canvas that I ordered off Amazon on its way right now), I’m just going to watch the pros do their thing and try to soak up their talent. To that end, I’ll be attending Visions of the Gaviota Coast today from 1 to 8pm at the Bacara Resort & Spa (8301 Hollister Avenue). There’s a special reception starting tonight at 5pm, and there’ll also be a raffle, auction and refreshments. The paintings there will represent the work of Southern California Artists Painting for the Environment (better known as SCAPE), and sales of the works will benefit Naples Coalition and Gaviota Coast Conservancy. The event continues tomorrow, 10am to 5pm.

Saturday April 19

Buellton Needs You

Music. Someone once said that it makes the people come together. Wait, have we covered this already? (We have; I knew it the whole time.) But I just don’t know if that’s true. It can actually be quite divisive. We all know the guy or gal who likes to argue that the Beatles were no good, for example – an attention-seeking, tedious pseudo-opinion – but I have some similar gripes myself. Take Tom Waits, a critically acclaimed canonical artist set up on the shelf reserved for the geniuses that you probably just don’t “get” if you don’t like. I think he stinks. I don’t understand who could listen to him. If you like him, I would probably like you as a person but would secretly think less of you. Now, if you think I’ve reverse engineered this entry to write about how I don’t like Tom Waits just because I wanted to after this coffee shop I’m writing this in played one of his songs, you’d be absolutely right. But watch this transition: Like Tom Waits, Ivory Deville also makes music (ouch). He’s playing tonight at Standing Sun Wines in Buellton (oh, yeah, you have to go to Buellton for this one, so just live your life for once and get out of town, you crazy animal). It’s part of a whole concert series they’ve got going on, so head straight to for more info and the whole series line-up. 

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Santa Barbara’s Online Magazine, Published Twice Daily

In Discussing Social Issues, Watch Out for Those Clouds. Find the Elephant Instead. by Sharon Byrne


n interesting phenomenon happens when people start discussing hotbed social issues. I’ve been watching this for a while locally on the subjects of homeless and gangs. It goes like this: Person A encounters an elderly woman early one morning, shivering in a doorway, no shoes, only socks with holes in them. She’s very thin, filthy, suffering and in major distress. A feels compassionate. This could be someone’s mother or grandmother. Why is she homeless on our streets? Person B is walking down State Street with his family. He is accosted by a group of young people, wearing dreadlocks and unkempt clothing, engaging in drug use, openly. One holds a sign reading “Will Eat P---y For Weed.” Person B is deeply offended, nervous for his children, even more so when the youths yell at him for not giving them money. He’s disgusted and resolves never to come back to State. The homeless are just too scary and aggressive. Now imagine A and Person B debating the homeless issue in a public forum. How do you think that is likely to go? A: We must help the homeless and end this suffering. It’s shameful that this goes on in a prosperous town. They need housing and supportive services. These are our fellow citizens. They deserve our help. B: (erupting) HELP THESE PEOPLE? Help them on to the next bus or train out of town! Bunch of scofflaws, lawless anarchists that are actually dangerous.

Lock them up! Did you know one of them raped a 15-year-old recently? The last thing we should do is reward that behavior by handing them a free home, when the rest of us have to work our butts off for it! Are you crazy?!?! Now, are A and B even talking about the same thing? Not even close. But by using the all-encompassing term homeless, they think they are discussing the same thing. They’re each living in a cloud of thought that they have constructed based on their particular experiences of homelessness. Neither is aware of what constitutes the other person’s thought cloud. Naturally, when their respective thought clouds collide, it’s a thunderstorm. Now, imagine A’s response to B: “You’re going to lock up starving, helpless people in jail? Brute! You’re criminalizing them for being homeless!” And pretty soon, they are completely polarized and want to beat each other up. This exact conversation is going on right now around the recent crackdown on lower State. Those who have experienced the aggressive youth hanging out there, referred to variously as yoaches, Urban Travelers, Crusty Punk Kids, or the Anarchist Set, are fed up with the lawlessness and hostility. That’s the B Camp. The A’s are clouding (pun intended) the situation with pleas for compassion. The A Camp’s image of homelessness is that of the elderly shivering woman in the doorway. Of course, you don’t crack down on them.

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Sharon Byrne

Sharon Byrne is executive director for the Milpas Community Association, and currently serves on the Advisory Boards for the Salvation Army Hospitality House and Santa Barbara County Alcohol and Drug Problems. Show some compassion, people. This happens on the gang front, too. Person A might think of gangs as the Mara gang leader in the film Sin Nombre. Straight from Central Casting: covered in MS13 tattoos, Darth Vader demeanor, muscled, and murderous. This gang leader hesitates not at all when putting a gun in a 12 year-old’s hand, dispatching him as a hit man. If the 12 year-old is caught, he goes down for murder. If he rats out the gang, he’s green-lit for death. No big loss – he was a newbie. Thus, the gang leader is completely insulated and free to carry on with gang activities. Person B, on the other hand, might think of her 14-year-old nephew, accosted by the police for hanging out with friends by the creek, just doing what normal boys do. Their hip-hop-style clothing is unfortunately also favored by homies. It’s a case of mistaken identity, but the damage is done. These particular kids are not gang-affiliated, but they probably no longer see the police as the good guys after that experience. Now, imagine these two people, A & B, in their respective thought clouds, formed from their experiences, discussing the pending gang injunction and the feelings they’re each likely to have. A is thinking of gang leadership, hard-core felons and cartels. You need to deal with them firmly and swiftly. B is thinking of her innocent nephew, and how kids like this need protection from the police, not more cracking down. Are these two likely to have a productive conversation? Not unless one of them pauses, and says, “What is it, exactly, that you are talking about? What images and experiences are you working from?” People in their thought clouds are like the old fable about the three blind men, each feeling an object, trying to discern what it is. The first declares it’s a tree. The second says it’s a vast wall. The third laughs, “You idiots! It’s a twig!” They argue heatedly, and nearly come to blows over it.

Turns out they had their hands on an elephant. The first had hold of the elephant’s trunk, the second, its middle swath, while the third was feeling out the tail. In the story, a king explains that they are all correct. The elephant has each part they described. But it is all of these parts, not just one of them. The point of the parable is that truth can be stated in different ways, and people with different belief systems can cling rigidly to their version, blinding themselves to the overall truth. So let’s stop playing the part of the blind man, trying to prove the other blind men wrong. Let’s instead poke at the thought clouds and ask what’s in there? Everyone is probably right in some way, but also likely to be holding only one piece of that elephant.

Punks, Drunks & Skunks by Loretta Redd


ere we go again... Front page “headline news” that transients are causing downtown businesses to lose money and citizens to stay home, while visitors get accosted by various urban travelers’ and inebriated fools. Of course, asking the city government for “action” is about as fruitful as asking the marketing magicians at Visit Santa Barbara to even admit there’s a problem in paradise. What I hear from city council is, “We tried to do something but it didn’t work.” All I hear from the hotel industry is, “We don’t want to alarm our visitors.” And the predictable police response is, “We need more officers.” In reality, what the city tried with their “Change for Change” was a poorly planned, underfunded and mismanaged mess of voluntary participation from a few businesses who ended up with nothing to show for their efforts but graffiti etched on their windows, and a miserly amount of “change” collected and sent to the mother of all financial black holes, Casa Esperanza. The police reluctantly admit that getting out of their cars and on to the sidewalks results in reduced criminal activity. But in truth, is hauling off the drunk or deranged the best use of our professional police force, especially when there isn’t anywhere to send a transient who is “disturbing the peace” and less than 20 inpatient beds for the mentally ill? One irresponsible, unrestrained or brain-addled individual can create a lasting image of downtown Santa Barbara as an unsafe and unsavory destination, just as a car-flattened or deflated skunk can affect an entire neighborhood. Before Councilman Randy Rowse admonishes me (Letters to the Editor, July 8, 2013) that none of my prior recommendations will work, like using “giving meters” on the streets to collect coins from those wanting to help the less fortunate, read on. In addition to

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Loretta Redd’s diverse background includes being a psychologist, business owner, non-profit director, Air Force officer, writer, speaker, and executive coach. Loretta has served on several Santa Barbara city committees and has been a candidate for public office.

Loretta Redd

Atlanta, he can now check out Denver, Orlando, Nashville, Vancouver, San Francisco, Springfield, Miami and Washington, D.C., where they are successfully installed and proliferating. Rowse’s accurate reflection that “we cannot legislate or arrest our way out of the problem” and that “all homeless are not panhandlers and all panhandlers are not homeless,” continues to be true; but for all the headaches this problem is causing, I can’t believe there aren’t better answers. So, I’ll risk another idea for the council, police, Downtown Organization or Visit Santa Barbara to shoot down. But it comes with a warning: It is proving very successful in tourist-centric places like Fort Lauderdale and West Palm Beach, Florida... and no, I’m not referring to the Florida’s concealed carry permit. It is a take-off on an Ambassador program. I know we have organizations conducting various forms of ‘ambassador’ work already, from Santa Barbara City College for foreign students, to greeters at the airport and Downtown Organization volunteers directing our cruise ship “boat people” around town. So, call them “State Street Saviors” or whatever you wish. The point is, they are a radio-carrying, unarmed but trained, smiling, uniformed force of sufficient number to have an impact. And they’re volunteers... or at least they’re not unionized. I understand why the council would prefer more cops on the streets, but cops are very expensive. When it comes to police in Santa Barbara, we hire the best because we pay the best, and it is a relatively lowrisk town in terms of physical danger. We have a fairly small force to cover our geographic area, but “deadly force” crime here is minimal, even in areas of concentrated populations. For a variety of reasons, I’m not

holding my breath for the kind of shoe leather you see at State Street bar closing hour, when Santa Barbara’s finest have to scoop up our 20-somethings and get them home to UCSB Chancellor Yang or off to bed without killing themselves or someone else. Plus, having too many police can send the wrong message. I’d be interested to know what the average lifetime salary, bonus, plus retirement cost of just one Santa Barbara police officer would be. We could likely hire a dozen part-time security guards, or train, motivate and maintain a cadre of volunteers for that price. I would imagine our officers in blue would be thrilled to not have to spend hours on processing drunks and punks, only to see them back on the street within 48 hours. Surely, the Downtown Organization street cleaners would appreciate having fewer bodily functions, cigarette butts and skunky garbage to hose down from our red brick sidewalks every morning. And maybe – just maybe – the Visit Santa Barbara tourism crew would feel a bit more genuine in their representation of our town as “The American Riviera” if visitors felt safe, welcomed and wanted. Before readers slap the label of insensitive, indulged Caucasian liberal on my forehead, I want to offer these facts: The use of “downtown ambassadors” can also provide a link to services for those living on the streets and help keep them safe as well. The smiles and helpful attitudes of these volunteers could go a long way to making everyone feel safer, not just the tourists or Saks Fifth Avenue shoppers. Giving meters, a genuine force of helpful, authorized security personnel in high-traffic areas and a Downtown Organization and Restaurant and Lodging Association with the guts to disseminate public information in all hotel rooms and restaurants that giving money to panhandlers is actually harmful and will likely result in their arrest or hospitalization, would be a start. Councilman Rowse correctly acknowledged we need more than a “Don’t feed the bears” approach to public education, but another try at a combined effort might help the drunks into treatment, the punks into better behavior and the skunks... well, I’ll have to leave that to other creative minds.

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As long as what you’re lost a lot of brain cells to late nights and doing is in keeping with the intent, which food and imbibing. So let’s is to co-create, co-exist and co-facilitate 3849years Santa Barbara • (805) 845-5247 experience and transformation, along with start there. Lucidity’s expansive offerings cover three sustainability. That last aspect is a big part of where days of music and other performances, a plethora of workshops that take place intention plays a part. “It’s a huge drive through the daylight hours, other behind what we do,” Winder said. “A lot opportunities ranging from dancing to of the workshops are about sustainability crafts to whatever you can think of, and awareness. The framework is all about that, too, as we did a lot more up-cycling lots of installations and art pieces. You can come to the festival just this year, getting needed materials from to be entertained at the three main stuff that was about to get scrapped: stages for public performances. The carpet, doors, wood.” Giant solar generators power some of Audiowatha Nomad’s Nook, curated by local promoters Music Is Love, the stages. The dishes and silverware are features house/electronic/DJ-based all reusable – washed and reused on site. music, while the Alive Stage has live Water is in organizers’ minds with the acts offering mostly folk, bluegrass, recent drought. Meanwhile this year’s entry in Lucidity’s rock and roll, fusion and dance music, with a special side platform for six-year story arc is Universe, which aerialists and others doing mini-sets Winder said is intentionally vague. “It means something different to as ‘tweeners during changeover. “So there’s never an energy drop,” Winder everyone. How do you relate? How do said. Meanwhile, the Lucid Stage, you connect and interact with our world?” That’s a pretty good and inviting programmed by Lucidity itself, boasts description for the festival itself. a blend of live and DJ acts, including “You bring something you love doing the biggest headliner of the weekend, Tipper, who Winder described as “The – or just yourself – and share with the community,” Winder said. Mozart of electronic music.” (Online three-day passes for Lucidity There are so many different performances that Winder, the production manager, Festival 2014 are sold-out, but hardcopy SANTA BARBARA SCOTTSDALE PHOENIX can’t even come up with an estimate right tickets remain on sale. Single-day passes 921 State Street Marshall Way Kierland Commons 805 335 2424 480 941 1707 480 443 4030 away. “I’ve never bothered to add them all are also available. See the website up,” he said, noting that shows go on at all for location, and the full 1 888 335 7900 schedule of events including workshops and three stages from 11am to midnight. But it’s not as simple as that. The stage lineups.) santa barbara®

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...continued from p.9 Dutch immigrants were male. By 1600, beer was accepted in England, and ale was seen as a beverage only for the old and sick. The new beer industry of the 1600s consisted entirely of men. Brewsters, sadly, were non-existent and a thing of the past.

A New Hope

While the ale-wives of England no longer exist and these days the term brewster has fallen out of usage, a growing population of females is bringing brewsters back into fashion. No group has been more instrumental than the Pink Boots Society (PBS). This organization consists of female professionals throughout all areas of the beer industry, and you can often spot PBS members strolling around beer conferences in their characteristic pink boots. The PBS provides a place for female brewers, beer retailers and servers, to discuss their craft and meet other females in the beer industry. It also organizes events to promote the role of females in the brewing industry. This year, on Saturday, March 8, the PBS organized the first annual International Women’s Collaboration Brew Day (IWCBD). The day was not overlooked by the beer-minded women of our area. A new female homebrewing club, Hop Tarts, partnered up with Kevin Pratt of Santa Barbara Brewing Co. and James Burge from Pure Order Brewing Co. to brew

Hop Tarts Saison. This beer is a lowalcohol (often referred to as a session beer) version of the bone-dry, fruity and spicy Belgian-French beer style called saison. The Hop Tarts Saison is an easy drinking (4.5% Alcohol By Volume) beer with a Meyer lemon character and a creamy, full body that comes from malted wheat. The Hop Tarts themselves consist of some of the most influential ladies of the Central Coast’s food and drink scene. Members include Laura Sanchez, a wine writer and self-proclaimed sufferer of a fermentation fetish, Sandy Harrison, co-owner of Valley Brewers, a Solvangbased homebrew shop, Coreen Padilla, a chef from the Buellton foody-destination, Industrial Eats, and Katie Falbo, director of Cultivate Events, who is organizing the Fermentation Festival at Fairview Gardens. Another member is Kady Fleckenstein, Brand Director of Figueroa Mountain Brewing Co., which means that their finished beer will be served at Figueroa Mountain’s Funk Zone tasting room, as well as at Santa Barbara Brewing Company and Pure Order Brewing Co. Not bad for a bunch of girls. If you’re interested in becoming a member of the Hop Tarts, then reach out to them through their Facebook page; women may have been pushed out of the beer industry a few hundred years ago, but the craft beer movement is making it hip to be a brewster again.  

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Powered by Presidio Sports is a provider of local sports news and information for the Santa Barbara community. Founded in 2008, the small team at Presidio has covered hundreds of local sporting events and published thousands of articles connected to Santa Barbara’s athletic community. Please visit their website for more local sports news and information.

Gauchos Making it Happen on the Diamond

by Barry Punzal

The UCSB Gauchos baseball team earned a 15-4 record in March.


CSB roared into the month of March like a lion. The Gaucho baseball team won eight of its first nine games and finished the month with a 15-4 record, with wins over perennially strong programs like Mississippi State, Arizona and Fresno State. It also received its first national top-10 ranking since 1986. Santa Barbara is currently 19-5, the Gauchos’ second-best start in program history. Presidio Sports is pleased to recognize the UCSB baseball team as its Team of the Month. Coach Andrew Checketts credits part of the team’s success to leadership. “They have started self-policing and holding each other accountable on and off

the field,” he said of the players. “It’s been fun to see the progression.” The Gauchos have made great strides since Checketts was hired in June of 2011. In his second season, the team finished second in the Big West, received its first NCAA Tournament bid since 2001 and won a game in the regionals. The success of last year has carried over to this season. “On the field, we’ve been productive offensively, played timely defense and pitched well when we have had a lead,” he said. Senior third baseman Joey Epperson, the team’s leading hitter with a .478 average, said among the qualities this Gaucho team possesses is resiliency and toughness. “We got kicked around a little bit in the

early season last year,” he recalled. “And we all say it took us a little while to find ourselves, but we found ourselves about the middle of the year and went on a run. “There’s no better group of guys that I would want to go to battle with, or as Coach Checketts said, fight in a foxhole with. And these are the kind of guys you want in your corner. So it’s just a tough, tough, tough group. Nobody in this lineup will ever give up, nobody will ever die, and we’ll play hard and bring it every single day. And I think that makes us special.” The college baseball season is usually 50plus games packed into three months. The Gauchos hit a bump in their season during their Big West opening series against Hawaii, losing two of three. Checketts called the results a “punch in the gut” to his team. “As we get into the conference season, we are going to need to be better defensively in the infield, get more consistent starts on the mound and be able to hold people in the bullpen when we don’t have our main set-up [pitcher] and closer available,” he said. “I think the team recognizes that, and are working to get better. We hope that our daily effort and preparation will lead to improved execution.” Coming into the season, Checketts recognized the team had good chemistry. “With so many returnees, we did notice it right away,” he said. Besides Epperson, the Gauchos have key returnees like Robby Nesovic, Peter Maris, Woody Woodward, Cameron Newell, Greg Mahle, Tyler Kuresa, Justin Jacome, Austin Pettibone, Andrew Vasquez and Dylan Hecht. “This past fall, we had a core group returning that knew what to expect from the coaches and from each other. They’ve run with it and made it their own so far,” Checketts said. “There are always ups and downs during the season, and having a group that can absorb blows and get back on their feet is valuable. Also, having a core group of guys that have a feel for the pulse of the team and can communicate with the

NUTRITION TIPS FOR ATHLETES Carbo Loading - (Know) How to Correctly Harness Your Energy


ansum Clinic registered dietitian, Emily Luxford, breaks down carb loading for athletes. Almost as soon as we were taught to ride bikes, run the mile or compete in athletic events, we are encouraged by our athletic mentors to “carb load.” What does this mean? Continue reading the article at: Training Day

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coaches has proven to be important.” After the two home losses to start conference, the Gauchos face the challenge of playing at No. 7-ranked Cal Poly and the host perennial power Cal State Fullerton the following weekend. But Checketts said this Gaucho team has shown poise and handled adversity well. They have yet to lose back-to-back games this season. “I think that’s evidenced in our record in one-run games (7-0),” he said. “We had a few key injuries (starting pitcher Pettibone, outfielder Luke Swensen and catcher Jackson Morrow) early and the team didn’t flinch or panic. Guys filled in where they were needed and performed fairly well.” “The Team of the Month” is a new content series presented by Sansum Clinic of Santa Barbara and produced by Presidio Sports that recognizes the great teams in the Santa Barbara athletic community.

Coaches Remember Nick Johnson by Barry Punzal ocal swim coaches paid tribute to Nick Johnson at Monday’s Santa Barbara Athletic Round Table press luncheon. Johnson, a UCSB sophomore water polo player and a former Santa Barbara High standout, died tragically while doing a swim workout at the Santa Barbara High pool during spring break. “This was a very promising studentathlete,” a somber UCSB swim coach Gregg Wilson told the luncheon audience. “I worked with his dad; my son had the pleasure of coaching him going through the ranks. “I want to acknowledge that this affects water polo in Santa Barbara,” he continued. “It affects aquatics in Santa Barbara, and it affects all of athletics – this group here and all that have preceded this year and all who will come forward. This is one of ours.” Wilson announced that a memorial service will take place Sunday at 2pm, at the Unitarian Church in Santa Barbara. San Marcos boys water polo and swim coach Jeff Ashton expressed his condolences to the Johnson family and Santa Barbara High. He said Johnson “exemplified class and sportsmanship.” “It’s a true tragedy,” San Marcos girls water polo and swim coach Chuckie Roth said. “I want to echo the thoughts of everyone.” Ashton brought Alex Zauner and Jack Corbin to the luncheon, citing they possess the same qualities of Johnson: hardworking, high character and set a good example for younger athletes. Zauner, a junior, and Corbin, a sophomore, are both sprint freestylers. Roth, who was named the CIF-Southern Section girls water polo coach of the year by the California Coaches Association, has an undefeated girls swim team at San Marcos. Two of his top swimmers are sophomore Olivia Smith, the defending Channel


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League champion in the 100 fly, and senior Megan Bergthold. Roth also has the first-year SBCC women’s program rolling. “We’re in position to win every meet we compete in,” he said. Roth introduced Alyson Marrs and Emily Foster as two local high school products who returned to the pool and are making an impact on the SBCC team. Marrs attended San Marcos and Foster went to Dos Pueblos. Wilson just returned from Austin, Texas, where he watched his swimmer, Wade Allen, compete at the NCAA men’s championships. “It was a very tough meet for an excellent swimmer and an exceptional young man,” Wilson said. “He just didn’t go as fast as he wanted. The meet was off the charts and every coach was baffled.” He noted that even the U.S. Olympic team coach didn’t know the competition would be so fast. A week earlier, Wilson traveled with Andrea Ward to the NCAA women’s championships in frigid Minneapolis. “It was nine degrees on the day she swam the 100 fly,” he said. Ward had a big meet, finishing fourth in the 100 fly. “She was spectacular. She made me look like I knew what I was doing,” said Wilson, who credited the work of assistant Tim Siciliano. “He’s been Andrea’s coach for her career. I just carry her luggage, and I did a great job.”

Prep Baseball


ong-time Santa Barbara High assistant George Rempe said the Dons went 3-2 last week at the Coach Bob Invitational in Phoenix, beating teams from Chicago, Arizona and Colorado. Rempe brought four players: sophomore pitcher Kevin Gowdy, the Athlete of the Week, pitcher Joel Johnson, reliever Kole T’Sas and all-around player Theo Laretto. The Dons (9-3, 1-1) play at Calabasas on Saturday. San Marcos athletic director Abe Jahadhmy pinch hit for first-year coach Jacob Pepper and said the baseball team has created a buzz on campus. “As the season goes along, you’re going to see San Marcos improving,” he said. Jahadhmy introduced centerfielder Colin Dosch and second baseman Hunter French. Nick Katzenstein of Dos Pueblos said his team went 2-2 playing at the Coachella Valley Rotary Tournament over spring break. The Chargers (5-8, 1-1) return to Channel League play Friday at home against San Marcos and play top-ranked Harvard Westlake next week at USC. Katzenstein was joined at the luncheon by senior pitcher Phil Zajic and junior shortstop Luke Coffey.

College Baseball


anta Barbara City College’s Jeff Walker said he was glad spring break was over

and his players were back in a routine of going to class and playing baseball. The Vaqueros are in second place in the Western State Conference and play thirdplace Hancock on Tuesday at Pershing Park. Robert Ruiz of Westmont said his team set several firsts over the last couple of weeks. The Warriors swept their first Golden State Athletic Conference (GSAC) series in five years (taking three from Biola), received votes in the NAIA national rankings and had their first GSAC Player of the Week, Steven Pollex. Sophomore righthander Russell Harmening is tied for first in the NAIA for the most wins by a pitcher. He’s 8-2 and has an ERA of 2.34. The Warriors, 21-14 and battling for a postseason berth, play a big series this weekend against Concordia. One of the highlights of the week for UCSB coach Andrew Checketts was seeing that 17 players on his team have GPAs of 3.0 or better. “We have some really solid kids who are not only committed to baseball but committed to being good students,” he said. The Gauchos (19-5) had a rocky start to Big West play, losing two of three at home against Hawaii. “It was punch to the gut for our kids,” he said. “We have the opportunity to right the ship this weekend. We play at Cal Poly, which is ranked seventh in the country.” The following week, the No. 17 Gauchos host No. 18 Cal State Fullerton.

Jessica Escalante, SBCC track and field star.



os Pueblos coach Liz Frech said she was still trying to get her voice back two weeks after beating Santa Barbara and ending the Dons’ 114-match Channel League win streak. Frech announced that Patrick Corpuz and the doubles team of Mason Casady and Andrew Tufenkian would play in the CIF competition at the prestigious Ojai Invitational later in April. Frech introduced two versatile members of her 8-0 Chargers, Corpuz and Miles Baldwin. Westmont tennis coach Mark Basham said the Stratman sisters, Lauren and Kate, are tearing it up as a doubles team and are ranked No. 3 in the NAIA. Lauren is sixth in singles. Basham’s men’s team is ranked fifth in the nation and is led by four seniors. Those seniors have helped the Warriors win three 5-4 matches this season.

Athletes of the Week


evin Gowdy of Santa Barbara High’s baseball team and SBCC track and field standout Jessica Escalante were recognized at the luncheon as Athletic Round Table Athletes of the Week. Gowdy, a sophomore, threw a 2-0 no-hitter against Pine Creek, Colo., at the Coach Bob Invitational baseball

SB High’s no-hit master Kevin Gowdy.

tournament in Phoenix, Ariz. He struck out nine and didn’t allow a walk. He allowed just three base runners: two hit by pitch and the other on an infield error. Escalante was a triple winner for the SBCC women’s track team in a WSC Coastal Meet. The former Dos Pueblos High standout won the 100 (12.82) and 200 (26.61) and ran a leg on the victorious 4 x 100 relay team. Female athletes named as honorable mention for the award include Amber Melgoza (Santa Barbara High basketball), Stamatia Scarvelis (Dos Pueblos track and field), Elysia Hodges (Westmont track and field) and Rachelle Visser (SBCC swimming). The male honorable mention choices are Matt Sessler (Dos Pueblos volleyball), Will Busch (Bishop Diego volleyball) and Russell Harmening (Westmont baseball).

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Irish017 Leads Santa Barbara’s NCAA Bracket Contest

by John Dvorak ith only three games to play, the true contenders in Santa Barbara’s NCAA Bracket Contest have emerged. Irish017 leads the group with 800 totals points, leading Bodard14 (760) and Ninja Slapper (750). Irish017, who named his bracket “Purdue,” is in good shape, having chosen Florida to win the whole tournament. Twenty-two people chose Florida to win it all, but nobody chose UConn or Kentucky. Bodard14 took Michigan and Ninja Slapper took Michigan State – two teams that have already been knocked out. Only one bracket, hoopskirt22, has Wisconsin winning the national championship. Currently tied for 41st place, hoopskirt can still win if UConn beats Florida on Saturday and Wisconsin wins out. Defending champion Warpath U, currently tied for 13th place, was among the leaders after the tournament’s first weekend but fell off the pace when Wichita State and Michigan State (his two finalists) lost. The NCAA Tournament concludes this weekend with the two Final Four games on Saturday and the National Championship game on Monday. The Final Four matchups are Florida vs. Wisconsin and UConn vs. Kentucky. The first-place champion will receive a $100 gift card to Santa Barbara Brewing Company and get his picture printed in the next issue of the Santa Barbara Sentinel. Additional prizes for the top finishers come from Natural Café, Santa Barbara Running Company, and Spa del Mar at the Fess Parker DoubleTree Resort.


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Others did, too. So I decided that I would simply make it happen.

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Spreading the 75,000 Words

leaving it all behind


It was right around that time when I was introduced, by chance, to a local guy named Peter Lance. Peter is an investigative journalist type who has published a number of books, some represented and others not. I explained my particular situation to him, and he shared a huge amount of insight over a hastily arranged lunch at Tre Lune on Coast Village Road. By the time the compulsory post-meal cappuccino arrived, I knew my path. I would self-publish my story and let the chips fall where they may. The self-publishing world has come a hugely long way. Peter suggested a service called Createspace, which is a way to self-publish and actually end up with a real book, indistinguishable, if done right, from any other book. Amazon owns Createspace; it’s a super-cool service that publishes books on demand and helps get them distributed. In other words, if somebody wants a copy of my book, they simply order it via Amazon (or even Createspace directly) and it shows up to the desired location a few days later. Voilà. Easy as that.

Truth be told, the process is amazing if you know anything about publishing a book in a more traditional way. I won’t bore you with that here but, trust me, this is revolutionary in the publishing world. “LIFE IS FUNNY, MAN. IT’S UNPREDICTABLE.” I like that kind of beneficial disruptive We had it all, by most objective standards anyway. Every last bit of it. technology. Very cool. I was an attorney with a strong and growing practice in Santa Barbara. My wife, Wendi, stayed home with our two To make theLilyproduct look and young daughters, and Kate, at ouractually house near the beach. We had dinner parties and ballet recitals and swimming lessons and all the other accoutrements of day-to-day life in a modern feel like a real book, I needed real book California. Things were good, even really good. The truth is that we had exactly what we always wanted. We designer. (I wasn’t about to learn the whole had exactly what financial advisors and career counselors advised was appropriate and reasonable. We painted by numbers, we tech side of all this, and designing a book checked the boxes, we did it all right. We succeeded. So it was surprising, I think, when we got on an airplane in really is art. I’mwe could nocomfortably artist.) quickly June an 2011 with only what carry onIour backs and left everything else behind. found one that for me (thanks Peter): We had no idea thatfit we were leaving it for good. WaltonLeaving Mendelson intale Arizona. Walton It All Behind is a true travel told in real time during one family’s voyage around the world. It is distinctly not just a of foreign people and places but speaksunderstanding intimately about quicklyrecitation demonstrated an a diversity of experiences and ultimately about how much more there is to life than a fancy job title and biglaying paycheck. From of my project and began ittimeout. We spent as barge captains in France and organic farmers in Italy to days and nights in South African and Nepalese orphanages, and went through revisions and revisions of from remote beaches in Croatia and India to the Mekong River and caves of rural northern Thailand, Leaving It All Behind really revisions until it was right. chronicles a kindred journey from a conventional lifestyle to something more balanced and harmonious, maybe, something Then there was the cover design. more fulfi lling. Perhaps, even, to something more real. $15.00 There are lots of designers out there – again, not exactly my bag – but, of course, I have access to a few right here at the paper. So Publisher Tim and Designer Trent agreed to have a look. And, soon enough, they had a clean design that fit. We played with fonts and pagination, and I wrote a Dedication and an Author’s Note; we tweaked chapter headings and subheadings and we designed the back cover and the spine and it was all a hell of a lot of fun. And it happened over the course of weeks, not months. Certainly not a year. Eventually, I was happy with what we’d done. So I ordered a proof. And it showed up at my house. And I opened it. It was a real book. Indistinguishable from any other at any bookstore or library or on any bookshelf anywhere. We took it through a final revision, tweaking this, adjusting that. We created a Kindle version, too. And now it’s done. It’s called Leaving It All Behind: One Family’s Search. I’m proud of it, truly, and can’t think of any other way I’d have preferred to make it a reality. (For me, personally, it was especially fun to have friends Tim and Trent involved.) In many ways, it’s the end of a long chapter in my life, one that has been exciting and nerve-wracking and fun and scary and creative and risky and wonderful. Wow. Maybe I should say that again, it sort of just appeared on the page. It’s been wonderful. I genuinely mean that. What else is there?

Mat thew S. Mazza

...continued from p.5 So I did. I quickly turned the blog into what I thought was a “manuscript” (not even close, I later learned) and I drafted an interesting query and let it rip. Here’s the problem: I’m an impatient guy, by my nature. So simply sending unsolicited queries all over the place and waiting for a response just didn’t suit me hugely well. I also quickly understood how many queries these agents undoubtedly received, and so the odds, in my mind, were not great. With that said, I suppose I was lucky. A number of agents actually responded and read my “manuscript,” some even had detailed suggestions about how best to move my little project forward. It would take a year, they told me, maybe longer. You could do this, you could do that. But I liked my project just as it was. And I’m impatient. So I took the querying experience, made some tweaks and generally cleaned the thing up until it actually did resemble a manuscript, and went back to some trusted friends. They, in turn, set me up with writers and producers and others. And we talked about commercial writing and agency and publishing and book deals and movie deals and television deals and all sorts of interesting stuff that I knew nothing about. Talky, talky, talky. And I’m impatient. I’m stubborn. And I still liked my little project.


Matthew S. Mazza There’s selling the damned thing. Admittedly, that’s where I have maybe a bit of a leg up on at least some others. And it’s why self-publishing seemed a viable option, even when I didn’t know anything about it. I have this paper, and lots of new friends in the publishing and advertising world. So I can give it an honest run. Here’s the deal: If you’ve enjoyed this paper for the past year-and-a-half, and if you’ve enjoyed my columns – I know there’s at least two of you out there – then you might like the story of how all this came to be. I sure do. It’s a true tale (a heart-warming one, I think) that started with a bold decision over lunch at the Natural Café on State one day in December 2011. At its core, it all really started, I suppose, as many stories start: With love. And with a girl. (Three girls, in this particular case.) It continued with me typing stories late at night in dark corners of foreign bars or coffee shops or hostel lobbies in places like Nepal and India and France and South Africa. Stories about my life, about my wife and my kids and my hopes and my dreams and my job and my friends and whatever the hell else I was dwelling on after a couple palm wines or a raki or two. It continued further with a disappointment in the Napa Valley and, ultimately, with a new friendship and partnership and idea for a print product

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in Santa Barbara. It ends, fittingly, right here. With this paper you’re holding and this column you’re reading. What a trip. I hope you’ll order it on Amazon or through Createspace directly (info below) or come to a book signing (working on it) or email me for a paperback copy (matt@, which I will gladly hand-deliver. If you do read it (and I hope you will), maybe someday I can buy you a glass of wine, so I can hear what you think of my little project. And maybe, just maybe, I can help you with yours. Keep writing, Santa Barbara. I know I will.

Stuff I Like

I love that Leaving It All Behind is finished and available to the world. (Wild, right?) You can buy it directly from Createspace (www.createspace. com/4690181) or just search on my name or the book title at com. Get a paperback, get an electronic version (coming soon if not available now), whatever works for you. They’re both cool. I’m working on a book signing and will provide details in this very place when I figure it out. That’s it. I truly hope you’ll enjoy it.


In the local writing feel, I really like that “Head Denizen” Eric Kelley is celebrating his 35th Anniversary (!) of owning The Book Den right here in town. The Den itself is roughly 112 years old (California’s oldest used bookstore!), and a true Santa Barbara institution. If you haven’t been lately, now is the time to go and congratulate Eric on a job well done. While you’re there, search out that hard-to-find or rare book, or just do what I like to do: Wander and browse and find something you didn’t know existed. Then buy it, find a terrific bottle of wine and settle in for the night (after you put the kids to bed). And read. It’s fun. 15 East Anapamu Street; (805) 962-3321; That reminds me, I’m reading a terrific novel right now. Shantaram, by Aussie convict/poet/philosopher/storyteller Gregory David Roberts, is quite a turn, and I am loving every chapter, every word. There’s travel (it takes place in Bombay, and Roberts effectively makes the city itself into a character) and mystery and suspense and danger and love and, well, go find a copy. It’s worth it. Thanks Sam Wallop for getting me interested; thanks Mike Walker for the borrowed copy. It’s a doozy. I might even return it someday. That’s it for this biweek, everybody. Go read a book already. I heard of this new one that just came out… 

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how to toil in the soil, how to grow their dinner and, yes, how to build a barn… or, maybe, a chicken coop. Urban farming is the newest craze and raising backyard chickens is so hip, it’s almost uber. Santa Barbara is no exception to the farming fad, with zoning laws open to hens in small doses (as long as the roosters are left to crow elsewhere). What better way to serve farm to table but from your own coop? Hormone-free, talk about totally organic; this is where the word fresh derives from.


Funk N’ Chickens

A Fowl-Weathered Friend

That’s my son, Tyler, the chicken whisperer.


an you be a farmer yet live on the sidewalk? My father would say no. In fact, he would laugh at me if I told him I was researching backyard chickens, so between you and me – let’s not tell him. I grew up on a farm. It was 12 acres, not huge, but sufficient in farm terms, providing well for our own table. My father raised me on such values as, “You want a horse? Then you have to build a barn,” and the famous and widely used, “You get bucked off the horse, you get right back on.” He meant every word of it. I’m proud of such values, having built

barns, painted fences, shoveled [manure] and, yes, been bucked off a spirited horse or two. Sure, I shed some painful tears… but I always got right back on. All of this know-how has helped me so much living in the city. Not in the general sense but it made me who I am today and, even though I’m still a country girl at heart, I’m also a tough cookie who can take care of herself when, well, I get bucked off the horse of life. Thanks, dad. Now that I have children of my own, I want to instill the farmer, or farm way of life, into their little city souls. Teach them

One of my best L.A. pals, Mark Donofrio, who owned the alwaysdelicious farm to table Larchmont Grill in the trendy Larchmont area of Hollywood, recently sold the restaurant and bought a small farm in the Santa Ynez Valley. He’s now the happiest man on earth and an accidental farmer. In his blog, The Starter Farm (www., Mark talks turkey, wait… chicken, and goats and vegetables, in his always-entertaining escapades as a freshmen farmer. He has been threatening to buy me chickens for about a year and, now that I have found my perfect home, it seems I may finally be ready to take him up on his fowl offer. But where to go? What to do? How do I care for my little feathered friends? I did some online research and talked to Mark about his experiences, but I needed to talk to someone who knows the backyard coop logistics of Santa Barbara. Someone who could set me up, a professional, a chicken enthusiast, if you will, because really… who am I kidding? I’ve been on the sidewalk too long.

Return to the Old West

Western Animal Supply (WAS) is the perfect place to talk backyard chickens, and it’s smack-dab in the middle of

Time & Tide and the DAY LOW HGT HIGH FRI, APR 4 12:45 AM SAT, APR 5 1:31 AM SUN, APR 6 2:34 AM MON, APR 7 4:04 AM TUES, APR 8 5:32 AM WED, APR 9 12:58 AM 2.3 6:38 AM THURS, APR 10 1:39 AM 1.8 7:27 AM FRI, APR 11 2:14 AM 1.2 8:08 AM SAT, APR 12 2:47 AM 0.8 8:46 AM SUN, APR 13 3:19 AM 0.4 9:22 AM MON, APR 14 3:52 AM 0 10:00 AM TUES, APR 15 4:28 AM -0.3 10:38 AM WED, APR 16 5:07 AM -0.5 11:20 AM THURS, APR 17 5:49 AM -0.5 12:07 PM FRI, APR 18 6:38 AM -0.4 01:03 PM

HGT 4.9 4.4 4 3.8 3.8 3.9 4.1 4.3 4.4 4.4 4.4 4.3 4 3.8 3.5

LOW 7:58 AM 9:09 AM 10:32 AM 11:48 AM 12:42 PM 01:22 PM 01:54 PM 02:22 PM 02:49 PM 03:15 PM 03:42 PM 04:10 PM 04:40 PM 05:13 PM 05:51 PM

the Funk Zone. Family-owned and operated by Ralph Iannelli, WAS regularly brings in a chicken expert for how-to beginner workshops on raising your backyard chicken; it also sells the fluffy little guys at a great price and helps you every step of the way in your new venture of farming. Store manager Rochelle helped me so much, advising that most chicken rearers swear that getting your chicks in the egg and incubating them will ensure a much friendlier adult chicken, one that’s more like a family pet than a barnyard animal. To actually achieve a baby chicken from an egg starter, you must have an incubator, brooder and a strong heart, as a lot of your eggs may not make it past a day or a week. I think I may skip this part of the process and get my chicken at six weeks old, which makes the whole thing a bit more certain. The folks at WAS can also help you with that process too, and can talk about different breeds and personalities that might best fit your needs. The dingy backyard chicken coops of old have now turned into deluxe condos (or more), and the breeds of chickens determine the type of laid egg you will enjoy on an almost daily basis. Not only do you get the freshest eggs you have ever tasted (they really are better, seriously), but also the fertilizer/compost for your garden on the back end, which is an organic reward for the rest of your urban farm. So there, in an eggshell, it is. Are you ready to step off the sidewalk, just a little bit? If you’re thinking of taking the true organic path, then make sure you do your research, check with zoning laws and talk to your neighbors (bribe them with fresh eggs – I think that will work)… then head over to Western Animal Supply. Happy farming, y’all!


HGT HIGH HGT LOW 0.3 02:38 PM 3.1 07:07 PM 0.6 04:26 PM 2.9 08:12 PM 0.8 06:11 PM 3.1 010:15 PM 0.7 07:05 PM 3.4 011:58 PM 0.6 07:36 PM 3.7 0.5 08:00 PM 4 0.5 08:22 PM 4.3 0.5 08:43 PM 4.6 0.5 09:06 PM 4.9 0.6 09:30 PM 5.1 0.7 09:56 PM 5.4 0.9 010:24 PM 5.6 1.2 010:56 PM 5.6 1.6 011:32 PM 5.6 1.9

HGT 2.4 2.8 2.9 2.7

Western Animal Supply is located in the heart of the Funk Zone, at 116 Anacapa Street; (805) 965-8940.



pring is upon us and windswell abounds. Northwest groundswell fills in Saturday morning (April 5) and should hold until Monday (April 7), giving us waves in the shoulder-high range with some spots having an occasional head-high wave. Look for windswell to build in the afternoons during the week, with a good chance of possible back-wind conditions from 5pm until dark. That switch in the wind late in the day makes for side-offshore conditions at some select beach breaks and fun peaks. The Pacific still has some fetches trying to pull it together, so keep your schedule open.

-Surf Country Doug

For a more in-depth daily report call Surf Country, 805-683-4450

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By Jenny Schatzle

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Jog around the block once or twice if possible. If not, then do three rounds of jumping jacks and squat jumps, 45 seconds per movement.

N.A.S.M, Kickboxing and SPIN Certified, Jenny Schatzle is known for changing bodies and changing lives. Her approach to fitness is about not only “getting fit” physically but also how, through exercise, nutrition and a positive motivational environment, you can change your lifestyle for the better. Jenny’s program and the results she consistently achieves have made her one of the most sought-after experts in Santa Barbara.


Do the following circuit as many times as possible at the appropriate level (beginner, intermediate or advanced):



his week’s workout focuses on something I use quite a bit in my program: High Intensity Interval Training. As anyone who has taken even one of my classes will tell you, HIIT, as it’s known in the fitness world, is characterized by a series of movements performed at a high intensity for a set period of time. As anyone who has gone through a full six weeks of my program will tell you, it is designed to be as challenging as you want it to be – and for maximum effect. It works. I love HIIT for three basic reasons: 1. It burns more fat. 2. It increases metabolism. 3. It burns fat rather than muscle. I know what you’re all thinking but, come on, don’t let the words high intensity scare you! In my world, “high intensity” means simply working to your full potential, not the extreme athlete’s full potential or anybody else’s. If running at 5.0 on the treadmill is a sprint for you, then that’s your high intensity; it doesn’t matter if the person next to you is at 10.0. We need to stop comparing our fitness levels to other people because, when we do that, it stops us from even starting. And that benefits nobody. Here is a HIIT circuit that requires no equipment and can be done at any level of fitness. Make it happen. Set a timer and see how many rounds you can do in that time.

Beginner:     20 minutes Intermediate: 30 minutes Advanced:      45 minutes 5 - Burpees 10 - Pop-ups 15 - Mountain climbers 20 - Jump lunges 25 - High knees 30 - Tricep dips (use a chair) 35 - Squat jumps 40 - Shoulder taps (from push-up position) 45 - Bicycles 50 - Crunches I love hearing your comments and questions, so let them rip to jenny@jennyschatzle. com or  





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by Megan Waldrep With over ten years in the industry designing for her own label, she began writing because “it just felt good.” In addition to writing, Megan is currently the head designer and creative director for Mew Kids, a children’s clothing line, as well as a co-author of the much loved children’s book, Spice & Little Sugar. You can say she wears many hats. Which is fitting. For a fashion writer and all. Discover her world at

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The signature side placed nameplate. (See “revisionism.”)

California Cool, SeaVees Style


he year is 1964 and the British are coming. The Beatles begin their descent on the hormones of American teenage girls on The Ed Sullivan Show; a 19-year-old Mick Jagger makes his first U.S. appearance in the pages of Vogue Magazine; and the most defining fashion statement of the century, the mini skirt, is created by designer Mary Quant. The British aren’t coming, they’re here. To every yin there is a yang, and we Americans have a pop-culture retaliation of our own. The Beach Boys own the summer’s number 1 hit, “I Get Around”; iconic road warrior, the Ford Mustang is born; and a budding footwear company steps onto the scene, embodying midsixties American fashion in a way that hasn’t been done before. SeaVees is here to save American culture by exemplifying what our British friends will never have:

New friends

California cool. “When you look at 1960s California, the things that were started and really left a mark, they carry on today in such an incredible way,” says SeaVees

An original 1960s Playboy ad. That got your attention.

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head designer, Steven Tiller. We are standing in the company’s bright and airy fitting room, located in the heart of Santa Barbara at 118 East Ortega Street. Drawing inspiration through old photos, films and articles, Steven uses the term “revisionism” to describe his design process. “It’s a recreation that is sometimes stitch for stitch, and other times is a murky vision in my head that I can see from really studying what was happening at the time.” Each shoe style Mortgage is named forSolutions an event that took place in mid-century California, Designed For You! placing an even

brighter spotlight on days gone by. Revisionism. I like it. Tiller has been in the footwear industry for more than 15 years, working with heavy hitters such as Sperry Top Siders and Keds. On a trip to Japan, Steven wandered into a thrift store and spotted the metaphorical glass slipper he’d been waiting for. There, in a glass case, was a pair of canvas sneakers simply called SeaVees. It was 2008 and a West coast fashion revival began. “We celebrate the origin of the brand by celebrating the culture and the influence of the 1960s, so it’s kind of a history lesson for our younger consumers who are very nostalgic for a time they’ll never know. This is a chance to reintroduce it.” Tiller, along with friend Derek Galkin (Galkin is also a co-founder of Santa

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That’s inspiration. On a wall.

Barbara fashion company, Art of Craft), is responsible for resurrecting the SeaVees brand – a brand that lay dormant for almost 40 years. Let me bring you up to speed: Rubber company B. F. Goodrich initially launched the brand in 1964, introducing the casual, California-inspired shoe to the market with ads in Playboy throughout the decade. The company was later sold to Converse in 1969. In 1971, Converse had a monopoly on the U.S. shoe market and since SeaVees remained a small-scale brand, they were forced to shut it down. During the seven-year run, SeaVees had great impact on fashion and changed the way the men’s footwear market thought of a casual-style shoe. In the 1960s, men’s footwear was limited to work shoes (think wing tips, cap toes, loafers and saddle shoes) and gym shoes – those you would never wear around casually because they were, well, your gym shoes. Tiller proclaims, “I always say SeaVees is a pioneer in the casual coastal lifestyle, because no one had done this before.” With Tiller at the helm, SeaVees has brought forth the signature “Authentic California” vibe to major fashion companies, collaborating and designing special edition shoes for Gap, Barneys New York and most recently, Hollister, a division of the Abercrombie & Fitch brand. SeaVees is not only back where it started, it is beyond. With all this national appeal, isn’t it hard not to “blow up” and become an instantly huge brand? Tiller affirms, “Whenever you take a brand that has the history of SeaVees that went away for so long and you’re lucky enough to relaunch it, there’s a sense of responsibility to grow it the right way and do it the right way this time. This isn’t some ‘quick burn’ that we’re looking to be as big as we can be overnight. It’s a really controlled, healthy and smart growth so this brand can live to see its next 50th anniversary.” This year marks the half-decade anniversary of the brand’s inception, and the company is more than happy to celebrate its roots and spread a little love in

the process. They’ve created The Legend Series, in which they partner with “living legends” and “legends in the making,” people (and companies) who share the same timeless aesthetic of mid-century California style. Iconic surfer and shaper Reny Yater is the first partnership in the series. Proceeds from the (Reny-selected) Hermosa Plimsoll Standard shoe and limited-edition Yater longboard are donated to the Cancer Center of Santa Barbara, Reny’s charitable donation of choice. “Some of (our partners), people like Reny Yater, our younger consumer may or not be aware of. For us, it’s a really cool way to introduce and elevate him, almost in a tribute manner and make him more relevant to the younger consumer by saying, ‘You should know him, he is a legend in the industry and you should know him.’” Next up is L.A.-based T-shirt company Sol Angeles. So, the legends continue... I ask Steven where he sees the brand in five years. After a long, thoughtful pause, he says confidently, “I would love for us to be a global lifestyle brand that is inspirational and very true to who we are. That we’ve held our quality and we’ve been true to the early adopter who discovered us in the beginning. That we’ve turned into their brand and they still love us. I know we’re building something that is universal in its appeal and filling in this long shadow we’ve cast. I hope the brand, with its heritage and the team we’ve built, will fill in the shadow (of expectation) we’ve cast. That would be extremely gratifying.” The SeaVees message runs deeper than stories of the past, present and future. It defines what has brought many of us and will bring many more to The Golden State. A chance for renewal, a place to enjoy life and, most importantly, an opportunity to turn our California dreams into reality – in a sweet pair of shoes to help lead the way. 


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by Rachelle Oldmixon

Bubonic Chronic(le)


used to dream of being an archeologist. Not because of Indiana Jones, though I was always horrified (if a five-yearold can fully express indignant horror) when he would destroy ancient artifacts without more than a wince. No, I wanted to be an archeologist with lots of fine brushes and picks, slowly unearthing some urn with engravings that would change our understanding of history. Then I convinced myself that we already knew all the exciting stuff and moved on to wanting to be a neuroscientist. In the years since I made the switch, I’ve been proved so very wrong about that. Archeologists and forensic scientists have discovered so much in the past decade. In the last year alone, they have found King Richard III’s final resting place, a wonderfully preserved “bog body” in Ireland’s Cashel Bog that is believed to be more than 4,000 years old, and proof-positive of cannibalism in the Jamestown Colony. But the discovery that really takes the cake is even more recent. It involves the Black Death. Ah, the Black Death: the disease that

decimated Europe in the mid-1300s. About 60% of the London population died, and some estimates say that nearly 50% of the entire European population was wiped out. A victim would go from healthy to showing the first symptoms to being dead, all within a few days. It devastated families. It overwhelmed governments. It filled graveyards and streets with bodies. It was spread by the fleas riding on the backs of rats. Or was it?

Rats Got A Bad Rap

The Black Death, the Bubonic Plague, Yersinia Pestis: These are all names for the same thing, a disease that causes rashes, swollen lymph nodes, high fever, vomiting blood and, ultimately, death. When it was devastating Europe, France’s best scientists claimed that certain planets were in alignment, thereby causing the disease. In the 19th century, it was discovered that the Y. Pestis bacteria, and not a planetary alignment, was in fact the cause of the Bubonic Plague. The bacteria, they argued, was picked up by fleas when they bit a sick person and

A self-professed science nerd, Rachelle has her B.A. in neuroscience from Skidmore College in upstate New York, and is working towards her Master’s in psychology at UCSB. In her free time, she blogs at www. She never could quite understand why she had to choose just one area of science; they are all fascinating. Especially when paired with some classic rock.

spread when the flea bit a healthy person. Here in the 21st century, experts have been puzzling over this “flea” conclusion. A disease that spread via fleas should not have infected so many people so quickly. There was, it seemed, a part of the picture that we simply could not see. Then London officials decided to build a new metro line. As part of the general procedure, archeologists were hired to excavate the area because, hey, you never know when we might find another lost king. The archeologists did not find another lost king; they did find a grave, though. A grave with several bodies of relatively unimportant people whose lives probably did not impact history. The bones were all tested for age and cause of death. As you might imagine given the subject of this column, the archeologists discovered that the bones belonged to men and women who had died of the Black Death in the 14th century. And the bones were well-preserved. I can only imagine the (slightly morbid) delight of the archeologists and forensic scientists. Here was a chance to study some small part of the Black Death, the most deadly disease to strike the human population. Yippee. The scientists started by examining the recovered bone for overall health. You’d be amazed what you can learn from a skeleton. (Unless you watch Bones, then you would be surprised by how little scientists can definitively tell from your skeleton.) All of the skeletons revealed that their longdead owners were sickly before they contracted the Black Death. Rickets, anemia, childhood malnutrition, you name it. Essentially, these people all had poor immune systems to begin with due to poor health. Likely, most people in London were unhealthy when the Bubonic Plague found its way to Europe, making it easier for the disease to decimate the population. Of course, this finding alone is interesting: The plague may have selectively infected and killed the sickly back in the 1300s. But forensic scientists did not just examine the bones they found. As it turns out, teeth are a surprisingly good place to store bacteria DNA, so good that scientists can often extract DNA from the bacteria that were present inside a body at the time of death. That’s right, archeology fans, scientists extracted the DNA of Y. Pestis from the Middle Ages.

What they found threw the whole “rat flea” theory out the window. There is evidence, you see, that Y. Pestis was not just spread by fleas. It may have started that way, but bacteria are resourceful and adaptable little devils and Y. Pestis found a way to become more infectious. It went from being bubonic (which means zoonotic or transmitted by small animals) to pneumonic or airborne. Essentially, early victims of the Black Death became so ill that the disease was able to transmit itself via coughs, sneezes or simple deep breaths. Imagine London in the Middle Ages: People are malnourished, medical knowledge is minimal, there’s no antibiotic medication to be found, quarantines are impossible and contagious victims of the Black Death are able to walk among the healthy, coughing the plague onto everyone they pass. It’s no wonder so many people died.

London and Prisons in Madagascar Are Quite Similar

Luckily, we can learn from the deaths of thousands. The Bubonic Plague did not die when the Black Death finally let up. The disease has stuck around, striking across the world in nearly every century. There is even an outbreak occurring right now, in present-day Madagascar. Madagascarian(?) prisons are overrun and the prisoners have minimal access to hygienic facilities. They are living in squalor. And unfortunately, the standard of living outside the prisons is getting worse, thanks to a coup several years ago. The result has been a surprisingly quick spread of a strain of Y. Pestis, with several confirmed cases of the pneumonic version. If it is allowed to spread, it could be devastating. Especially due to the fact that the strain of Y. Pestis in Madagascar today is almost identical to the strain from the 14th century. I know, terrifying to think about. Except Madagascar has two things going for it: (1) People might be living in poor conditions, but they are far healthier than the people of 14th century London. And (2) the world does not want another outbreak of a deadly plague. Countries from around the world will provide resources and antibiotics to stop the spread of the disease. And if the Y. Pestis strains separated by nearly 700 years are nearly identical, then it is almost certain that it has yet to develop any resistance to antibiotics. The Black Death isn’t cool, but the discoveries about its history are. Scientists have just changed our entire understanding of what London, and Europe, must have been like in the Middle Ages. And they’ve upended a 200-year-old theory, all while helping us understand a current plague. Archeologists are awesome. I probably should have been one. 

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Jeff is a journalist, raconteur, autodidact, and polysyllable enthusiast. A long-time resident of SB, he takes great delight in chronicling the lesser known facets of this gaudy jewel by the sea. Jeff can be reached at

Aloha in the Third Act

THE PET DETECTIVES by John and Hudson Mayfield

Hudson (9) and John (7) are brothers and students at Montecito Union School. Hudson loves boats and the ocean, he can be found sailing around the harbor in his free time. John enjoys Minecraft, dogs and all kinds of animals. John is often spotted making new friends with dogs all over town.

Racer Couvillion

“I couldn’t abide that haircut!” in 1929 (photo Julian Gist)


he drive from my wife’s hometown on Holland’s Channel Coast to the French seaside village of Arromanches, in the Normandy district, takes about six-and-a-half hours of heartseizing, Euro-style, two-lane country road rocketry. Visiting the Dutch homestead in 1999, I’d easily talked my brother-in-law, Marcel, into the smallish road trip. His country and mine had seen the war years from wholly different perspectives and our families had experienced the bludgeon of those scarifying years in wholly different ways. On this trip, Marcel and I would see for ourselves the now whispering beaches, bluffs and meadows where 55 years before, a monstrous mechanized wave had broken on the north-facing French shoreline with the hugeness and ferocity of a scriptural myth. On arrival in Normandy, we headed straight down to the beach. There are the chalk cliffs, of course, which famously oversaw most of the ripping fusillade that felled thousands of allied soldiers as they lumbered ashore. The concrete bunkers remain in their ruined state, torn apart so savagely you blanch with disgust and pity to think of the chaos of that day. Breezetossed grasses and flowers sprout out of the blasted cement ruins. A Hollywood set decorator couldn’t achieve a more saccharine effect. Mayhem and death are far away, if they are anywhere at all. The water that once churned with blood now ripples ashore with the same delicate sloshing sound a child’s hand makes splashing in the shallows. The surviving soldiers left here a long time ago, sailing into New York Harbor and wearily disembarking from overstuffed troop ships. Those who had remained on the home front to build the bombers and tanks and battleships that eventually helped defeat global fascism

Newly married nomads prepare to hit the road. Bob and Aloha in 1942 (courtesy Bill Wing)


id you know you could have a dragon for a pet? Meet Racer, a bearded dragon. He likes to eat crickets and mealworms. Be careful if you open his cage door – he likes to race out. Once he got out of his cage and was missing for two days; luckily he was found outside. Racer can change color due to stress, anger or hunger. Racer makes a really cool pet.  

Aloha at Ft. Clayton, Panama late 1940 (courtesy Bill Wing)

welcomed them back in large and small scenes of intense jubilation. The young soldiers swapped olive drab for Arrow shirts, went to college on the GI Bill, and forged the largest and most prosperous middle class in the history of the world. They placed the chaos of the war at even further remove by swarming into trim, planned communities with lookalike houses, identical driveways and white fences helpfully delineating where one home ended and another began. They picked out furniture and got about their business.

A Village of Fellow-Travelers

Above the corner of Anapamu and Garden streets today the sky is a cloudless, intense, loudmouthed blue. The Italian Stone Pines lean over the road in their ...continued p.30

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The Weekly Capitalist by Jeff Harding

Jeff Harding publishes The Daily Capitalist, a blog on economics and finance. He is the president of Montecito Analytics, LLC, and is a real estate investor who lives in Montecito.

All War, All The Time


here ought to be a War Channel, you know, like 24-hour sports or entertainment channels. That way we would have one place to go to keep up on the countries the U.S. is at war with or is planning to make war on. There are so many wonderful opportunities for us right now. Why? Because our military is everywhere. You would be shocked to know how many U.S. military bases and installations there are around the globe. All over Europe, the Middle East and Asia. A few in Africa. Then there are military advisers who are just about everywhere. I checked out Africa, and there were military teams acting as advisers in just about every country. These advisers aren’t all combatants but act as trainers and consultants to local armed forces. Sometimes the government sends in advisers secretly, so we don’t really know everywhere we are involved. Recently, we were informed that we had secretly sent a military team (less than five soldiers) into Somalia (remember Black Hawk Down?) to “promote peace and security.” Lots of luck on that whole thing. Dark forces from Somalia recently attacked a mall in Nairobi because of Kenya’s involvement there (67 killed; 175 wounded; no one caught). Yours truly just happened to be in town that day. Not fun. You get the picture: We are everywhere. And the problem with everywhere is that it enhances our chances to go to war.

Same Old, Same Old The nasty bit is that more often than not, our leaders lie to us about the casus belli (justification for war). Take Vietnam as an example. Kennedy lied, Johnson lied, Nixon lied. We lost and 58,000 Americans paid the price.

Need I even mention Iraq? Bush declared war on Saddam Hussein in 2003 based on trumped-up accusations. 4,489 Americans were killed in Iraq because of bad judgment. We are out of Iraq, sure, but we are still providing weapons. I would humbly suggest that Iraq was and is a miserable failure of U.S. policy. Iraq is falling apart and violence is on the rise as Sunnis and Shia vie for power. Al-Qaeda is back, too. Only the Kurds are happy, as they have oil and autonomy. Afghanistan is a bit more complex. We had reason to attack because of 9/11. The first phase was an impressive success as CIA paramilitary forces quickly routed al-Qaeda and Taliban forces and took over the country. During that phase, only 61 Americans were killed. It was a success until our ADD president, unable to concentrate on Afghanistan, decided he would take down Saddam Hussein. The result? Since 2003, Taliban forces moved back in and 2,254 more Americans were killed. We still have about 38,000 troops in Afghanistan. If you think Afghanistan will stand as a monument to American nation building, you’ll be wrong. I wish them well, but the reality is that the Afghanis will ultimately revert to what has always worked for them: dictatorship and/or balkanization. You would think that these massive policy failures would give pause to our leaders when they start rattling their sabers. Apparently not. Take Syria. Our peace-loving president was on the cusp of committing U.S forces to aid rebels by enforcing a no-fly zone and carrying out air strikes against Assad’s military installations. How can we stand by and let Assad kill his own people by using poison gas, he asked. Republican

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leaders more than wholeheartedly agreed with him. Then Vladimir Putin stepped in, taking his cue from a John Kerry gaffe, and announced that Assad will destroy his supplies of poison gas. Oops, no more casus belli. “Stand down, Senator McCain!” I’m guessing that President Obama was quite relieved at this turn of events. Can you imagine what would happen if we waded into a civil war in Syria? There may be some good guys there, but increasingly

“You would think that these massive policy failures would give pause to our leaders when they start rattling their sabers. Apparently not.” the opposition is fractionalizing, and radical Muslim fundamentalists are carving out their bits of the country. Our latest opportunity is Ukraine. It appears that we were up to our necks in encouraging the overthrow of Putin’s pet autocrat, President Viktor Yanukovych. Not saying he was a good guy; he wasn’t, but once you open Pandora’s box you’ve got to expect consequences you may not have expected. Like Vlad taking Crimea. Or Vlad threatening eastern Ukraine. Or Vlad cutting back natural gas supplies to Europe (hasn’t happened – yet). Oh, what to do? I have an answer: Keep our pistol holstered and stay out. Let Europe take the lead on this one. Why is defending Ukraine in our national interest? It isn’t, but it may be in Europe’s interests. Putin has ambitions, no doubt. But he’s outmatched us here. He’s outmatched Obama and he certainly outmatched Bush. There’s no plan B; not much to see here folks, move along.

History Repeats Itself (Again and Again and… ) How does war mania get traction? It’s the politicians. In Syria, war hysteria was whipped up by horrible images of gas victims, especially little children whose dead faces stared back at us. The press was the worst promoter of these atrocities. But why is this any worse than the hundreds of thousands slaughtered in Sudan, Chad and Northern Nigeria? We sat and watched then because it wasn’t in our national interest to intervene. Yet Obama was ready, willing and able. What about freedom-loving Ukraine? It’s a country on the brink of disaster. Few freedoms, much corruption, bad government. It would be nice to see them have a true revolution whereby the entire country was liberalized, but what are the chances of that? We have underestimated Putin and now we have no real leverage on him. John McCain just called Russia a gas station. Maybe so, but Europe needs them to keep pumping natural gas westward. McCain would lead us to brinksmanship with them for what goal? To compare Putin’s takeover of Crimea to an appeasement like Hitler taking Czechoslovakia is historically and factually inaccurate. Say he regains control over those marginal territories like Moldova and Belarus – so what? They’ll hardly notice the change. Do we care? Should we care? Russia will continue to stagnate as a second-rate economy because of cronyism, corruption, bureaucracy and Russian ennui. They aren’t to be feared. In the movie The Fog of War and in his book, Robert McNamara, on looking back at our involvement in Vietnam, rather candidly admits that events tend to overtake men in power, that dangers are exaggerated, that power has its limits and that true facts are rarely understood. He should have added that leaders lie to the people. It is a sobering thought. Why do we keep making the same mistakes? 

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In the Garden with


Potted succulents are forgiving but still need regular watering to look good.

Mr. Greenjeans

by Randy Arnowitz “Mr. Greenjeans,” as he is known around

Santa Barbara, is a gardener, horticulturist and writer. He particularly enjoys working with roses, orchids and sharing the day with his golden retriever Peaches, who faithfully accompanies him in the field. Contact him at

Tales from the Drought


ue to the drought, I think I may have stumbled upon a new vocation. If I ever decide to give up the intrigue and adventure of my highpaying gardening career, I think I may go into meter reading. This month alone, I have jimmied open and peered into more water meters than I have in my entire stint as a gardener. All right. I have to stop here for a moment. I was going to say that after prying off the cement hatches of countless meters, I have encountered and evaded bunches of alligator lizards and tons of black widow spiders. But when I Googled what groups of lizards and spiders are actually called, I got a good laugh. Okay. So, spiders plural, are called a colony or a clutter or a cluster. Interesting, but not that funny. On the other hand, a group of lizards – and I’m not kidding, is called a lounge. Wait, who thought that up? A lounge of lizards? Really? I immediately pictured that smarmy Geico gecko, sitting in a bar with his gecko cronies hitting on human women. Nasty, right? I digress. For those that may not know, your water meter is usually located out by your curb in that rectangular, heavy cement box with the equally heavy cement lid. And the reason I’ve been delving into the dark, nether regions of all things meters is because I have been trying to figure out how to keep acres of thirsty gardens hydrated and alive on a fraction of the H2O that they are greedily used to drinking. This is what I’ve come up with. Instead of turning on an entire irrigation system and wasting water on stations, or zones that may not need to be watered, I am going to check the numbers on the meter and note how much water is allotted for that property. Then as needed, I am going to water the beds and trees that begin to look the thirstiest, either by hand with a hose or by turning on that individual station on the irrigation timer. Then I am going to again check the meter to see how much water I’ve used during the time I’ve watered. It’s not perfect, and I admit it takes some time. Deciding what to water and what to let go of is going to be the difficult part, but more on that next time. There certainly are worse things in the world besides cutting water off to our gardens, but maybe we all – myself included – should have been better prepared for this by getting rid of our lawns and by changing our thirsty gardens over to drought tolerant ones months or better, years ago. My knowledgeable

This vibrant Bougainvillea Rosenka is extremely drought-tolerant but initially needs regular, deep irrigating to get it established.

The face of your water meter. Your best friend or worst enemy.

friends, Coleen and Rick in the gardening department over at the Home Improvement Center told me that many folks are coming in now to buy droughttolerant plants. I can’t help thinking that unless you’re replacing a very small area and can stay within your water allotment, it’s a little late to start making a drought garden that will be able to withstand periods of little or no water. Here’s why: Any drought tolerant landscape plant, even a plant as droughty as a bougainvillea has to be treated like any other type of plant when first planted in the garden. Its roots have not yet ventured out over a large area or down deep enough to find moisture. You have to think of a newly installed plant as a potted plant that’s just stuck in the ground. The only moisture it will receive is the water you decide to give it right there at its confined root zone. A drought-tolerant plant may have inherent survival mechanisms such as shutting down or closing its stomata, slowing its transpiration rate or dropping temporary leaves that help it survive periods of little or no water. However, any newly rooted plant can only rely on the moisturegathering roots that it came with in the container to keep it hydrated. Keep in mind, too, that many of the succulents from the local nursery cannot really survive when put out in the hot summer sun and expected to live on little or no water when first planted, either. Along those lines, droughty plants usually don’t fare any better when used in containers. What we think of as droughtresistant plants like sages, lavenders and

rosemary cannot survive when left in small plastic or clay pots in the summer sun without being regularly irrigated. Their roots restricted to the confines of a small container have no way of searching out additional moisture once the containers have dried out. In a drought, even a smallpotted cactus or succulent can be as fragile and vulnerable as your nana’s African violet. 

Randy’s Quick Pick If you’re like me and even get lost when you brave the wilds of San Roque after dark to pick up a Kit Kat bar at the 7-Eleven, then

you may want to check this out. On Saturday, April 12, from 9am to 4:30pm and Sunday, April 13, from 9 to noon, James Wapotich will offer “How To Not Get Lost In The Woods.” In this two-day class, you will learn skills and an awareness that will allow you to remove the word “lost” from your vocabulary. This class is not about being a survivalist or living off the land, but rather about learning how to see the land as a more familiar place and how to read the trails so that you can find your way anywhere. The class is $75 per person and more info is at: (805) 729-4250 or Kit Kat bars will not be provided.

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...continued from p.27 Aloha Wing with Jill 3712 Horatio Tampa 1949 (photo Julian Gist)

Aloha prepares for a life well-lived, circa 1932 (photo Julian Gist)

arboreal embrace and seem to peaceably usher the traffic along. Villa Santa Barbara’s flags (Old Glory and State of California) flap serenely from the senior living complex’s stately main tower and its rooftop garden. I announce myself at my mother’s apartment with the usual shave-and-a-haircut rap on the door. She answers enthusiastically, flinging the door open with a Norma Desmond flourish. I see that one of her feet is bare, while the other wears a shoe and sock. This may or may not be for comic effect. We head out for an afternoon drive, arms linked. Downstairs, sun washes in through large windows and fills the cavernous lobby with a warming light. Constructed in 1979 in the first flush of the Senior Communities movement, the Villa Santa Barbara Retirement Hotel (as it was then called) is spacious and welcoming, a cozy village in its own right, its high ceiling suggesting freedom and airiness. There is a theater, a game room, even a judiciously utilized wet bar. The place is a sort of indoor township. The fellow-travelers who live here are moving slowly, to be

nomadic life; born into the Army, she later married into the Air Force. Her travels and her times have produced a ham, a bon vivant and a wiseass. She and my dad were a matched set that way; he the unflagging life of every party and she the beautiful sidekick more than able to hold her own. As a preteen, she was already an industrious mischief-maker, routinely climbing out of her bedroom window in the wee small hours (as Sinatra would’ve described them) and roaming the various Army bases she called home. No Army-issue bedroom window could hold her. In one story familiar to our family, she creeps out of her parents’ Army quarters late one night and slinks across the parade grounds by moonlight to the base movie

“The principal of the base high school, Mr. DeCarlo, would have none of this and took matters into his own hands by attempting, to everyone’s great surprise, to smuggle a Jewish friend out of the country in a tuba case bound for Malta.”

Living it up in the Hotel Villa Santa Barbara (photo Ken Mahler)

sure, traversing the open lobby spaces in smooth, measured steps, sailboats tacking in gentle ocean winds. Some have walkers, some canes, some affect a bright buoyant stride that seems almost defiant. At this moment, Frank Sinatra’s silken, boozeroughened vibrato lilts on the air through

hidden speakers. At last count, Santa Barbara had about 12,000 people aged 65 and over living here. It’s a curious fact that, increasingly, it seems, some people are uncomfortable around the aged. In a hospital lobby once, I’d watched a man who looked to be in his 70s walking some paces ahead of a very frail, papery man older than he. The younger man, at 70, managed to affect a jaunty air of mildly embarrassed, teenage insouciance that nevertheless did not disguise his discomfort at being in the company of this elaborately bent and aged person: his own father. At what point, we wonder, do these familiar lovers – our parents – become removed from us, become affronting strangers? What divides us, finally?

Aloha Means Hello

I scan the Villa Santa Barbara lobby, looking for familiar friends. Many of the folks in the cushy chairs react with surprise to be regarded so directly. It’s as if they’ve grown so unaccustomed to eye contact they are startled by it, some of them. One of them I’ve spoken with at length. Her name is Aloha, and that’s just the beginning. She’s had an interestingly

theater, where the scandalous Carole Lombard film No Man of Her Own is playing. Twenty minutes into the movie, the MP’s familiar flashlight beam plays down the darkened aisle beside her. She looks up to see a resigned-looking, whitehelmeted base policeman standing beside her. ”C’mon, Aloha,” he reportedly sighs. “Let’s get you home.” Aloha was born at Schofield Barracks, the Army post that would, some 17 years later, be bombed by nervous Japanese pilots following the ill-advised orders that would eventually unplug their empire. Her father was an Army Colonel who had always adored Hawaii from afar and had finally secured his dream posting. In the full flush of his island fever, he and my probably less enthusiastic grandmother nearly named my mother after the last sovereign queen of Hawaii, Lili’uokalani, which is unfortunately pronounced pretty much the way it’s spelled. It was a close call. Aloha was in Florida by 1942, a volunteer for the war effort, pushing crudely built model airplanes around a tabletop aerial map with a long stick, the better to differentiate, with the civil air authorities’ help, the friendly planes flying around the eastern seaboard from the mean planes. Cameras in space were


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Aloha Wing, Clearwater Beach Florida, 1940 (courtesy Bill Wing)

still an Arthur Clarke daydream. She met my dad that year at a servicemen’s dance. Bob’s difficult childhood had somehow produced not a bitter introvert, but an unflappable, easygoing, ever-grinning, gregarious pal to all, in his time a much beloved friend and father. With the pairing of he and Aloha, the game was afoot. By 1969, she was an Air Force Wife. We lived on Wheelus AFB, just outside Tripoli, Libya – my father, my mother, my little brother, my big sister and me. There were smashed dates on the ground everywhere you looked, the air perfumed with their sugary, floral scent. Our grade school on the base had two penned camels in the schoolyard – Adam and Eve, we named them. They could slime you with a horribly coherent spitball from 40 paces. We learned to run from math to English class. My family lived in Quarters 4G, three blocks from the Mediterranean.

An Inconvenient Coup

We’d been living on Wheelus all of a year-and-a-half before Colonel Gaddafi rudely moved his belongings into the Royal Palace during one of kindly King Idris’ clueless junkets abroad. Shortly thereafter, we were ordered to leave the country and in the heated confusion that followed, many people were shown the door, to put it politely (more recently, Gaddafi was himself shown the door, for instance). Many of these were my family’s friends in Tripoli, including Omran, the tall, Stetson-wearing, Americaloving Libyan with the robust, selfconscious laugh, poorly fitting boots and pitiable-but-charming swagger that tried unsuccessfully for John Wayne. Omran’s dream was to live in the States, or even see the U.S. once. He disappeared in the purge that followed the coup. It was a particularly difficult time for people of

the Jewish persuasion, as the newly empowered dictator of Libya did not feel the need to hide his contempt under a bushel. Gaddafi’s thugs began to enthusiastically round up Jews. The principal of the base high school, Mr. DeCarlo, would have none of this and took matters into his own hands by attempting, to everyone’s great surprise, to smuggle a Jewish friend out of the country in a tuba case bound for Malta. The plot was foiled on the tarmac of the Tripoli airport. The fallout from this foiled rescue would involve Aloha in an episode that would bring the curtain down on the barely controlled-mischief chapter of her life.

The “Moving Company” Incident

Aloha spent much of 1969 with a similarly meddlesome gal pal, the laconic Stephanie. Inseparable, they skulked around the base planning various kinds of trouble, but spent most of their time sneaking around the topiary foliage of the base commander’s expansive Air Forceissue home on a bluff overlooking the Mediterranean. The commander, Chappie James, was already a near-legend, and would soon enough be made the U.S.’s first black Four-Star General, due in part to his role in finessing an orderly evacuation of an Air Force Base that our angry new hosts would rather have been a rout. But under the trying and diplomatically complex circumstances of the coup, many on Wheelus AFB were displeased with what they saw as James’ capitulation to several of Gaddafi’s directives. Aloha had particularly objected to Commander James’ treatment of her next-door neighbor, Genevieve DeCarlo, whose house arrest James had grudgingly


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agreed to in the wake of her husband’s botched attempt to spirit his Jewish friend out of the country. Chappie James had agreed to the new Libyan government’s terms of reprisal; orders to sequester Genevieve (a soft-spoken, unbowed French academic), strip her of all personal belongings and send her out of the country to join her exiled husband in Japan following several months of house arrest and hectoring, mostly benign questioning. In the event, Aloha and her mischiefmaking pal, Stephanie, contrived to smuggle Genevieve’s valuables out of Libya, incrementally, piece by piece, in defiance of Gaddafi. The success of the Aloha and Stephanie Moving Company reportedly involved some shameless flirting with the young, bashful and easily distracted Libyan guards. When Genevieve was finally allowed to join her exiled husband in Okinawa, it was found that much of what they owned had been sent on ahead by Aloha and Steph. In gratitude, Genevieve gave them her green Renault, which Aloha and Steph teamdrove as neither had ever learned to drive a stick shift. The base was thus further imperiled during this period. In chapters to follow, Aloha would become an avid scotch-and-water bridge partner to my dad, a gold-medalfestooned Senior Olympian in swimming, and a Benson and Hedges-hoisting hostess to her dear friends and neighbors, all of whom have, at this writing, left the stage. Aloha was fortunate to have entered the world (Stage Left) in the midst of the sort of epoch that favors the high-spirited. It was a time of intense feeling and color. Judy Garland and Benito Mussolini were a couple of the players, for instance. It’s true that much of the intense color was ordnance blossoming brilliantly in the saddened skies over torn-up Pacific islands and smoldering European capitals. It was, as a great Victorian writer with a poorly


executed comb-over once remarked of his era, both the best and worst of times.

Put Your Dreams Away

Aloha is 90 now. Her husband and my father passed away 20 years ago. He left her with his mirth and casual indifference, Bob’s relaxed, bemused embrace of every day he was alive. She and I share that lasting gift. She is still possessed of her dark hair, her teeth and her attitude. She can’t pass the full-length mirror in her apartment without stopping to strike a Dorothy Lamour “come hither” pose; one hand on her hip, the other perched uncertainly atop her head. It happens without fail. My humor is hers (antiquated and often indecipherable), and there are times we’ve had each other laughing so hard, physical danger entered the equation. Today my aged, self-deprecating mom answers the door with one shoe on and one foot bare. Tomorrow, who knows? One would be a fool not to pounce on these comic possibilities when they are presented, and on those occasions she happily jumps aboard, guffawing helplessly, then breaks into hoarse wheezing as I enter a soliloquy on the dignities of old age. There are moments I’ve thought my mother was going to laugh herself to death, times she couldn’t catch her breath as we both leaned into each other in helpless hilarity. I expressed this concern once. We’d really gotten each other going and she was crying with laughter. Finally, she couldn’t catch her breath. She raised her hand to her chest, trying to draw air. I panicked. ”Hey! Hey! HEY!! MOM!! MOM!! MOM!!” “What,” she coughed, waving me away. “I thought you were going to leave us there for a minute!” I put my arm across her diminished little shoulder. She wiped her eyes and sighed through a rattling chuckle. “Wouldn’t have been so bad,” she said. 

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A fun and friendly group, Jessica Kuipers, Liz Brown and Natalie Strahl are excited to see Jose!

with Julie Bifano Ms Bifano is drawn to micro-fiction and is currently writing her first novel – “The Grace Below.” She has a B.A. in English with an emphasis in writing from the University of San Francisco and a M.F.A. in Creative Writing, also from the University of San Francisco. More of Julie’s stories and poetry can be viewed on her website

Soirée at the Salon

Tracey Greene and Kristi Marks can’t wait to meet Jose Eber.

The man of the hour, and fabulous hair wizard, Jose Eber poses with Francois Hourcastagnou.

Rachel Rock and Casey Topar greet guests as they enter the patio area.

The ever-stylish Kittim strikes a pose with Katie Seefeldt. Laura Dinning, Kimberly Phillips-Hayes and Taylorjane Breidenstein look forward to having their hair cut by Jose.

Fashionable guests, Morgan Berliner and Emily Tidswell, celebrate Jose Eber coming to SB.


ynchronicity struck as I was greeted by Gena Downey, stylish director of Public Relations at the Four Seasons Resort. I observed her chestnutbrown hair and layered cut. Earlier that evening, rushing from one job to another, I tweezed out gray “wisdom streaks,” new on my part, and threw my hair back in a bun. It was kismet (I needed a cut and color) to be at the Four Seasons, about to meet the accomplished hair guru Jose Eber for the opening of his new salon. While chatting with Gena, I noticed other people’s hair-dos. Suddenly, Jose emerged from the crowd. His long, highlighted hair was tucked underneath a black cowboy hat. Gena stated, “We are excited to celebrate the grand opening and Jose being a part of the Four Seasons family.” She also explained how the 1,000-square-foot salon space would be a tranquil experience for guests and locals alike. I learned Jose and his talented team of stylists would be available for haircuts, color, highlights, blow-drying, styling and up-dos. With my upcoming wedding in August, I had to ask Gena if Jose and his team would

Four Seasons general manager Karen Earp with Four Seasons director of Public Relations, Gena Downey.

Stylish attendees, Duncan Westley and Shannon LoarCoté, having a blast.

be available for wedding parties as well. Yes! Bridal parties would also be welcome at the salon and able to order food and drinks from the Four Seasons. As the blue ribbon was about to be cut, officially opening the salon, Jose took the microphone and expressed, “I want to make you feel great by looking great.” I thought to myself that the simple message

Angelia De Meistre-Hammer and Viktor Hammer love Jose Eber.

was totally true. As I turned around to snap a photo of the crowd, I watched a woman eat the top of a lipstick off the hors d’oeuvres platter. This couldn’t be right! Instead of her choking, or worse, she took another bite. I wandered over to the hors d’ oeuvres

platter, and Gena informed me that – surprise! – executive pastry chef Don Hall’s desserts were created to look like makeup! There were chocolate lipsticks, vanilla marshmallow makeup sponges and lemon Madeleine pushups. Also innovative was the Jose Eber Framboisette cocktail, made with rose champagne, Lepanto brandy, house-made raspberry syrup and raspberry liqueur essence, and garnished with a gold-dusted raspberry. The best part was being given a mini perfume bottle with extra cocktail spray for later. A fabulous and fun touch. Would I schedule a potential birthday haircut and color myself? Absolutely. The atmosphere was more comfortable, and less pretentious, than I had anticipated. The salon will be open Tuesday through Sunday from 10am to 6pm. It will carry Phyto hair care products. For appointments, call (805) 770-3000. 

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My cheese monsters, Francesca and Henry, pairing their Parmesean with classic slices of dry Salami.

by Jacquelyn De Longe

As a writer, busy mother of two toddlers and Pilates Instructor at P.U.L.S.E., Jacquelyn De Longe finds her fast-paced life often keeps her out of the kitchen and frequenting area restaurants. New to Santa Barbara, she explores treasures of the local culinary scene with a fresh, honest and entertaining perspective.

Say Cheese

Inside C’est Cheese at De La Guerra and Santa Barbara, ample employees are on hand to assist hungry customers.

Kathryn Graham, owner, and manager, Marsha Bigelow, serving it up.


o ahead, try to say it without smiling. Cheese. It causes a picture-inducing grin. It is good in every meal: breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert (hello, cheesecake!). It’s a classic party snack and I’ve never met a kid who could refuse it. Fans wear a wedge of it as a hat to support their favorite NFL team (go Green Bay!). People name their daughters after it (ever met a Brie before?). I even once knew a dog named Cheddar. Seriously, who doesn’t love cheese? In my humble opinion, cheese should be included in the periodic table, just like oxygen, zinc, or gold. It really is a substance that I couldn’t imagine my life without, so I figured what better place to write about than Santa Barbara’s cheesiest destination. (Cheesy, I know.) This popular artisan store has been making headlines since it opened its doors in 2003, with mentions in major magazines (Sunset, Food & Wine, Time) and newspapers (including The New York Times). Now they can add to their list the single most important publication of all time, the Santa Barbara Sentinel. Located on the corner of Santa Barbara and De La Guerra streets is C’est Cheese, a traditional cheese shop with select deli meats, cheeses and wines from around the world. It got started when owners Michael and Kathryn Graham moved to Santa Barbara and, alas, couldn’t find that for which they were jonzing, cheese. So, like true entrepreneurs, they sought out the best in the world and brought it here for all of us to enjoy.

Michael Graham, owner of C’est Cheese, stands tall amid his variety of tasty wares.

Thank you, thank you, Michael and Kathryn, for bringing craft cheese to town! Lovers of the stinky, creamy goodness can find just about any and every kind of cheese at the shop, from traditional Parmigiano Reggiano straight from Italy, to Germany’s Sternschnuppe (it means Shooting Star) and, more locally, Norcal’s Point Reyes Blue. From soft to dry, tangy to creamy, nutty to crisp, just tell the folks behind the counter the object of your desire and the cheese mongers can pair it up with deli meats and wines. They might even introduce you to new stuff you may not have known about. Don’t know what you like or how to talk about cheese? No problem – just like a sommelier, these experts are here to help. They will serve out the samples and guide you through the overwhelming variety. Yay cheese!

Ph.D. in Cheeseology

Marsha Bigelow, manager and cheese fanatic, shared with me the C’est Cheese passion and interest in educating the public. The benefit of purchasing your cheese and deli meats at a specialty shop like this is that a certified cheese freak is able to walk you through what

The BLT GC bacon, tomato marmalade & arugala w/ Quebec vintage cheddar, Mozzerella, and ScharfeMaxx swiss

will pair best with what and when it’s at its prime. (Here’s a tip I learned: Keep your cheese in the crisper in your fridge. The humidity will help keep it from drying out.) They offer monthly classes at the prestigious C’est Cheese School to spread the love and knowledge of cheese. The course includes five cheeses paired with wine or beer and even salami, honey, or chocolate. It is a simple indulgence for many of us, but this kind of attention to detail makes eating it all the more enjoyable. And for the true fromage fiend, there’s even a Cheese of the Month Club where a selection of three specialty cheeses are delivered right to your front door. Cheese, cheese, cheese! (Fist pump.) Speaking of stuff enjoyable, since April is National Grilled Cheese month – I know – I had to go for C’est Cheese’s grilled cheese for lunch. This isn’t just any grilled cheese, though: It’s the

BLTGC. That’s right, a bacon, tomato, marmalade, and arugula triple-cheese blend grilled cheese. I’m speechless. The sandwich hit every note. The crunch of the toasted sourdough; the sweet tomato jam; thick, salty bacon; creamy delightful cheeses. My taste buds were happily singing after chowing down on this one, and I can’t wait for what’s to come. There’s an expansion underway. Cheese lovers, rejoice! Be ready to enjoy even more of what C’est Cheese has to offer. Headed by chef Jamie Libardi, formerly of the San Ysidro Ranch, the new attached restaurant will be open for breakfast and lunch at the end of April with pastries, specialty coffees, and delicious dishes to satisfy those taste buds. Pony up to the bar for your latte or grab a table on the private outdoor patio; either way, you’ll be sure to be spending some time here. I was privileged enough to get a sneakpeek behind the closed doors during my visit and, even past all the construction, I could see the sleek new spot coming together. With crisp, white subway tiles and an open floor plan, I am looking forward to starting my day this way in a few weeks. Because, lets face it, you can never, ever, have too much cheese. (Fist pump.) 

C’est Cheese is located at 825 Santa Barbara Street, so go stop in if you haven’t. You can also call the shop at (805) 965-0318, or check them our online at

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by Kateri Wozny Kateri is an award-winning journalist with a

background in print, online, radio and TV news. A native of Minneapolis, MN, she has written for the Chicago Sun-Times Media Group, Pepperdine University and Acorn Newspapers. She works full time as a public relations manager locally and loves exploring the Santa Barbara fashion scene. Follow her on Twitter @kitkatwozny.

Serenity Style: Shop Girl Finds Peace at Seastrand Boutique


ills, work, drama! I was having a stressful day and I felt like I had lost control of everything in my life. So I decided the only cure to keep my sanity and regain control was to go shopping. Smart choice! As I headed down Linden Avenue in Carpinteria, my eyes darted toward Seastrand Boutique. Just a few blocks from Carpinteria State Beach, the atmosphere of the boutique was cool and friendly with upbeat music – just what I needed. Sensing I was having an off day, owner Taylor Bush immediately offered me a glass of champagne and showed me around the store with her adorable Pug (and store mascot), Bella. “I love helping my customers and making them feel welcome to see what their needs are,” she said. Bush definitely knew what my needs were... and I’m not just talking about the champagne. She originally received her master’s degree in school counseling and dreamed of becoming a school counselor for the Carpinteria School District. While she worked a number of jobs, her dream ended up pulling her in another direction when she learned that her friends at By The Sea Boutique were closing their store. Bush jumped at the opportunity to create her own. “As a child, I always loved fashion and would assemble the pieces. I get a lot of positive feedback from customers about

Elegant jewelry pieces from local designers grace the tables.

Seastrand Boutique has a welcoming, upbeat feeling.

even have some toys for our customers’ children to play with while they shop.”

Customer Appreciation To show her generosity for her customers, Bush gives out loyalty cards for her regular customers, giving them 10% back in store credit after six purchases. She also has Mimosa Saturdays once a month. Yummy! “I feel like a lot of the skill sets I learned in counseling intertwine with what I do at the store,” she said. “The customers say they love it here, and it’s always friendly and inviting.”

Heartfelt Causes

Co-owners Taylor and Erik Bush pose with their cute pug (and mascot) Bella.

the window pieces I create,” she said. Last April, Bush and her husband, Erik, took over the former By The Sea Boutique location and remodeled it into their own beach haven. “(2013) was an exciting year with opening the boutique and also getting married in October,” Bush said. “I never thought I’d own a business and now that I’m doing this, it’s perfect for me,” Roaming the boutique, I found designers from Hudson Jeans, Angie, Tulle, Everly, BB Dakota and Dakota Collective, Hanky

You feel like an important star shopping at Seastrand!

Panky, Chris & Carol, Havaianas and Just USA Jeans. Seastrand also features jewelry from local artists Kelsey Ferguson and M & L Jewelry, along with different gorgeous shaped driftwood art from Madera del Mar. With the weather rising and falling like the drop of a pin, I bought a snuggly blue sweater by Dakota Collective. I even bought one of Bush’s handmade hair ties that she and her husband design while watching movies. “We offer a quality, trendy style with classy pieces (with a majority) being U.S. brands,” Bush said. “I try to find something that everyone will like.” Prices range from $16 - $90 for a piece of jewelry, $42 - $198 for a pair of jeans and $29 - $99 for tops. The unique driftwood art is $100 - $150. “We try really hard to have a balance in prices and not scare people away,” she said. “There’s something for everyone; we

Besides wanting to have been a school counselor, Bush was also a dancer and has donated proceeds to help support the Curtis Dance Studio competitions and local schools. “We always try to give back to our teachers, because they do so much for youth,” she said. “It feels good to give back and make a difference.” In the future, Bush sees the boutique having online sales and selling an athletic line. “It’s always a mold, I want it to be a successful but fun at the same time,” she said. “I’m always listening to what people want.” Listen she did. I felt a sense of peace and regained confidence as I left with my purchases to conquer the next adventure.  

Seastrand Boutique is located at 919 Linden Avenue in Carpinteria. The boutique is open daily from 10am - 6pm. For more information, call 698-4034 and visit them on Facebook for special offers.

Marsha Kotlyar Representing Exquisite Properties of Montecito & Santa Barbara

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by James Luksic A longtime writer, editor and film critic, James has

worked nationwide for several websites and publications – including the Dayton Daily News, Key West Citizen, Topeka Capital-Journal and Santa Ynez Valley Journal. California is his eighth state. When he isn’t watching movies or sports around the Central Coast, you can find James writing and reading while he enjoys coffee and bacon, or Coke and pizza.

It’s the Quality, Not Quantity


he other March madness – cinema’s late-winter to early-spring stretch of mediocrity – has mercifully ended. Aside from the insightful documentary Tim’s Vermeer and the pleasant foreign rom-com Gloria, pickings had been less than slim. A few intriguing, potential gems have my undivided attention: It’s hard for me to remain calm about the revamping of Godzilla, whose trailer comes across (at the cineplex) as a monstrous gathering storm; the British crime flick Dom Hemingway, meanwhile, pits Jude Law as an ex-con with mutton chops and lots of regret. As for eccentric Lars von Trier’s divisive Nymphomaniac, well, the naked truth remains to be seen. After a head-scratching string of 10 mainstream films I couldn’t recommend with confidence or a straight face (including Divergent, which seemed needlessly long and oddly familiar), pictures of substance have arrived.

Watch Your Mouth

In Bad Words, Jason Bateman is at his worst – smug, smarmy, condescending – which is simultaneously his best. Few actors can equal Bateman’s embodiment of the loner, the humiliated and put-upon everyman (consider his turns in Juno, Identity Thief and the underseen Extract). In this dark comedy, he portrays a 40-yearold who is hell-bent on winning the national spelling bee for which – due to an obscure loophole – the man is qualified. Given his underaged, overwhelmed competitors, the bee’s bully spells and curses his way toward the finals, despite protests by angry parents and the contest’s president (Allison Janney). One curious boy befriends the reluctant hero, despite being his main rival; in turn, the story’s premise goes to extremes and implausible heights (e.g., a key item gets torched bonfire-style at the hotel’s pool, with zero repercussions). But Bateman, in his directorial debut, shuffles in other creative, fanciful and profound scenes as an equalizer. What carries the picture aren’t the laughs (no matter how funny) or the surprising amount of action, but a supporting cast of veterans who know the drill: Philip Baker Hall, whose role is more significant than you may have guessed; Kathryn Hahn, as the hero’s assistant and undercover lover; Steve Witting in the thankless role as the spelling bee’s moderator; and the ever-dependable Janney (the fact she hasn’t won an Academy Award borders on criminal).

The Ark Ages: Oh, Noah

If you’re looking for a deeply religious tale that specifically mentions God or angels, keep looking. The artistic license taken by Noah director Darren Aronofsky – who calls it “the least-Biblical film” of its kind – has angered Evangelicals and purists alike. Admittedly, I’m no theologian or Biblethumper, but my quick take is: Those in an uproar ought to ponder the filmmaking visionary’s unusual repertoire that includes Requiem for a Dream, Black Swan and Pi. Whether you embraced or despised those projects, they were undeniably imaginative and challenging. Russell Crowe, as the eco-warrior

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and Creator’s chosen one, is a mountain of a man with a monumental mission: constructing an ark to protect “all that crawls, all that creeps, all that slithers” from an apocalyptic deluge that will wipe out mankind. He enlists the help of his spouse (Jennifer Connelly, whose sorrowful beauty lends itself to Old Testament times), his children and a young lady (Emma Watson) who finds herself pregnant – which Noah considers a curse. We also have the shipbuilder’s grandfather (Anthony Hopkins) and the villain Tubal Cain (suitably barbaric Ray Winstone). Yet the most controversial characters are non-humans: rock transformers, who serve as towering guardian angels. They are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the epitome of Aronfsky’s uncompromising approach. Each frame, every shot (including the recurring images of a snake and an apple) represent themes of courage, temptation, hope, sacrifice and – last but most – eternal love. Those crying foul over the abundance of CGI effects are downplaying their necessity, particularly when the awesome flood arrives. Who’s to say whether the script is serious-minded enough? Viewed strictly as a spectacle and well-intentioned adventure, Noah delivers; the ark is a triumph.

Making History

Cesar Chavez marks the latest chronicle and filmmaker Diego Luna’s tribute to the storied labor organizer and civil rights leader. The casting of soft, agreeable Michael Pena (Crash) was clearly an attempt to make the spotlighted figure sympathetic to more audiences; American Ferrera, as the hero’s wife, is viewer-friendly in both name and persona. In his fight to secure a livable wage for California farm workers, Chávez proved relentless (“I want to get my hands dirty”) and stood tall against law enforcement, business owners and grape growers. Luna’s biased take on social justice gets tempered by quiet flourishes within family circles, though I would’ve liked more voice and attention given to Rosario Dawson’s participant. Confrontations and protests are staged believably enough, and the oily, dirty camerawork places spectators at eye-level. Too often, however, Luna shapes the narrative with real-life, archival news footage that disrupts rather than enhances the flow. Among the hero’s adversaries is a patriarch and fictional character – who happens to be the movie’s most compelling individual – in the form of John Malkovich, whom the filmmakers were fortunate to have on hand. In this swirling, dusty tempest of social justice, Malkovich serves as a much-needed model of dignity and understatement. Among the actor’s extensive body of work, I would go as far to say it’s his finest turn to date. 







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You Have Your Hands Full

Happy skiers. Alpha’s never been so proud. (Or is that relief?)

by Mara Peters Former editor for the fashion/lifestyle section of the New York

Post, Mara moved to London and worked as a contributing editor for the Daily Mail’s You Magazine, freelancing for Look Magazine, NY Post and the Style Magazine for The Sunday Times. To remain sane during diaper years she writes a mommy blog, You Have Your Hands Full –

Climb Every Mountain


know, I know, I got to go – but, please, just give me one more hug,” he said, tearing up. I warily dropped to my knees waiting for the ticking time bomb to explode; I’d been there before, the wailing, the grabbing at me, the complete meltdown. But this time, he pulled me in real tight, gave me one final squeeze and then turned to go. His shoulders quietly shook as the ski instructor led him away. Wow. What a difference a year makes. The ski vacation has always been a painful

It was never talked about, but the expectation was I’d do the same for him – so he could continue to enjoy skiing. I had to become good enough so we could spend time together doing what he loved. There were years spent on the mountain with me in tears and Alpha biting his lip in frustration. Every time I showed any signs of ability, he’d steer me to the tip of a black diamond. All it took was one look over and I’d lose it, putting a bit of a damper on our vacations. “I’m not sure this whole ski thing is all that great for our marriage,” I told him one evening, after giving him the silent treatment for that day’s black diamond attempt. “Face it, I may never be cut out for this.” Never one to throw in the towel, he always re-booked and re-tried. Then the kids came, and with that there was the equipment, boots and ski school. By the time we got to the morning drop-off, I was screaming uncle. And Charlie was screaming murder. In fact, we started calling him Osama bin Charlie because the last trip was so bad.

Holy Week (April 13-20) Palm Sunday (April 13) Worship – 9:30 a.m. Study & Discussion – 11:00 a.m. Maundy Thursday (April 17) Seder Meal - 6:00 p.m. Good Friday (April 18) Tenebrae Service - 7:00 p.m. Easter Sunday (April 20) Celebration - 9:30 a.m. Study & Discussion - 11:00 a.m.

Osama bin Charlie, actually smiling and ready to tear it up.

experience for me. When I met Alpha, he had just taken a year off and gone to the French Alps to ski and mountaineer. I had never been on a ski trip in my life – too busy horseback riding. When we married, he quickly learned the way to my heart was to be able to gallop next to me. He was diligent and very studious, taking riding lessons three days a week. Within a year, I’d let the horses rip through the trails of Northern California and he was right by my side, enjoying every minute.

But this year, something happened. Mornings at ski school were, well, surprising. Osama was a class act. He’d shed his tears with dignity and honor, and then kill it at school for the rest of the day. At the start of our vacation, all four were gone from 9am to 3pm. In that time, Alpha blew by me with his amazing grace and, instead of seething with jealousy; I’d stay focused, resolved to not taking a complete nosedive. And there were no black diamonds. Our first outing with the older kids was

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beyond remarkable. Before, “ski school” was a parental euphemism for “draining the college fund.” We saw no real value, other than it was an expensive way for our kids to get looked after while we fought on the mountain. After two days, to our shock, Olivia and Jackson joined us as confident and competent skiers. “Oh, God, babe, I am really, really sorry,” Alpha pleaded as the other two disappeared. It was a gloriously sunny day with fresh powder. We had taken five or six runs before getting to President Ford. “This is a black diamond; I didn’t mean to take this turn.” But the thing was, I wasn’t looking at the pitch when I peeked down the mountain. All I could see was Jackson bombing down – looking so much like his dad. And Olivia. Fearlessly carving her turns. “Well, if Liv can do it, I certainly can,” as I turned to his surprised face and plunged over the edge. At the bottom, I looked up to Alpha with a smile. He was having a hard time masking his emotions: Fourteen years and four kids later, we had arrived to the place that he had dreamt about long ago in the mountains. “C’mon, Dad, let’s peel off and hit more black diamonds,” Jackson begged. And as I watched them ski away, he turned his head back to me, smiling from ear to ear. Flush with confidence, I looked down at my daughter’s eager face: “Come on Liv, let’s try President Ford again.” The mountain was finally calling.  


It was Spring Break and we were going to take two planes to get to our destination. As the kids fought over the iPads and the movies for the DVD, I had a thought: We’re going old school. I piled them all into the car and we headed to my favorite place in Santa Barbara, Chaucer’s Bookstore. They spread out over the kids’ section, touching, feeling and browsing books. The staff, always amazingly helpful (and ridiculously patient), matched each one of my kids with their perfect fit. And magically, all four were reading for most of the flights. The iPads and DVDs came out on our last leg – but heck, I was tired and you have to have some wiggle room as a parent. Chaucer’s Bookstore, 3321 State Street, (805) 682-6787.

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SANTA Byo urARBARA S KINNY gui de to




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the list goes on and on. Maybe you’re looking for circles, dots, chevron, zig-zag, damask, nautical, typography, birds, bees – basically any and every pillow can be freshly covered by Chloe & Olive. Check out its website to start shopping, and get yourself a sweet new pillow to snuggle with!

By Sarah Dodge ido’s got a bone to pick with you. And we can’t say we blame him. You love your dog, right? She’s a part of your family and you would do anything for her. So why leave her at a dog kennel, where she’s just another dog locked up in a cage while you go on your dream vacation? On behalf of Fido and dogs everywhere, we’re here to say, “Stop barking up the wrong tree.” (Or something like that.) Next time you decide to leave your dog behind, go ahead and do her a favor: Check out DogVacay is a website where you can find at-home dog boarding with thousands of trusted and insured dog lovers across the country who are ready to watch your dog like she’s one of their own. Go on vacation guilt-free and with a little more money in your pockets, because when you choose DogVacay you’re choosing a cage-free environment where your dog will be cared for like she’s one of the sitter’s own – all at up to half the cost of a kennel. And get this: You’ll get daily photo updates of Fido looking and feeling fine! Go ahead and give DogVacay a try… we double-dog dare ya.



What You’ll Need: - 12 whole Nasturtium flowers - 1 package soft goat cheese - 2 tbsp lemon thyme, finely chopped - 1 garlic clove, minced as fine as you can get it - Dash of salt - Couple turns of fresh-ground white pepper Wash the flowers and let them air dry. Combine the goat cheese, lemon thyme, garlic, salt and pepper in a bowl and stir until all ingredients are evenly mixed. Place a dollop of goat cheese in the center of a Nasturtium, pressing it in well. How much depends on your tastes and the size the flower can take. (Nasturtiums are sweet and have a spicy kick to them, which balances well with the acidity of a goat cheese.) You have the option of closing the petals around the dollop or just leaving them open. Have fun with this idea and change up the herbs you use or the cheese to stuff with. Thanks Theodora!


More Pillow Talk

By Briana Westmacott hhhh. Come over here. We’ve got something to whisper in your ear. It’s pretty. It’s playful. These patterns and colors should not go unseen. Chloe & Olive is a company owned by two sisters with interior and graphic design backgrounds. The girls decided, hey, “if you can’t find it, create it” and they did just that with C&O pillows. Their hand-sewn pillow covers are crafted from premium designer fabrics in their Santa Barbara studio. You can pick from seemingly endless choices: colors, designers, styles, sizes, indoor, outdoor, kids…


Nibbling Nasturtiums

By Eve Sommer-Belin nspired by a recent field-to-vase dinner at a Carpinteria greenhouse full of colorful Gerber Daisies (it was a terrific time, keep your eyes peeled for the next one), we thought we would share an edible flower recipe with you. The menu at the event was created by Theodora Stephan of Global Gardens (find her on Facebook and at her new location in Los Alamos), who is especially known for her amazing local olive oils. Appetizers included Goat Cheese Stuffed Nasturtiums, and we’ve put our own twist on Theodora’s simple delight.


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by Christina Enoch

Three Pickles Does Sushi. And They Do It Really Well. (Wait… Whaaaaat?)

No fried food at Tsukemono – just top-notch sushi for the purist.

Simple, fresh, vibrant seafood. What else is there?

Team Tsukemono: Bob Lovejoy (middle), master sushi chef Ryoji Oroku (right) and front of the house specialist, Ben.


verybody knows that Three Pickles is a sandwich shop, right? You know, the place on East Canon Perdido with all the delicious specialty sandwiches, like, for example, my own personal favorite sandwich in town, the hot cheesesteaky wonder they call the “Gaucho.” I could write poetry about it for the next two days. (Poetry, I tell you… about a cheesesteak.) It’s that good. I could call this column Ode to the Gaucho. But that’s not what I’m writing about. I’m writing instead about sushi. At Three Pickles. (Yes, you read that right.) I’m writing, dear friends, about Tsukemono, SB’s newest sushi joint. These days after Three Pickles shuts it doors following the lunch rush, a bright neon “Sushi Bar” sign is hung up outside. And the place-formerly-known-as Three Pickles becomes Tsukemono, which, not coincidentally, means “Pickle” in Japanese. Indeed, even as Three Pickles’ own staff is busily preparing sandwiches for the masses, sushi chef Ryoji Oroku is busy preparing for the evening sushi crowd. Wild, right?

Simple and Delicious The menu is limited and, frankly, relatively simple when compared to other sushi places around town. It’s just clean, beautiful sushi, with a few special rolls available, at Chef Ryoji’s discretion. I like simplicity. And I really like exceedingly fresh and delicious sushi, which is what you’ll get here. Chef Ryoji is classically trained in Okinawa, Japan, and has been in the sushi-making scene in Santa Barbara for more than 10 years. (He was forced to

After years of working full time for an ad agency, Christina found her passion in cooking and food. Now armed with her newfound title, “Culinary School Graduate Food Blogger,” she writes and shares her passion for food, cooking, restaurants, photography and food styling in her popular blog, black dog :: food blog. Christina’s a proud mommy of not one but two shelter dogs and lives here in Santa Barbara with her husband. She’s also an avid Polynesian dancer, beach lover, traveler, swimmer, snowboarder and most of all, a lover of anything edible and yummy. Check out her ramblings here and at

Chef’s special tuna. Just tell Chef Ryoji what you want and let him go, you’ll not be disappointed.

Here’s that ceviche roll I mentioned. Wow. And there’s so much more.

After a break from the kitchen, Chef Ryoji is back wielding the sushi knife. It’s about time!

take a little break due to an unfortunate neck injury, but he’s now back wielding his sushi knife.) As I was talking to him and Ben – Ben, a woman (I love masculine girl’s names), runs the front of the house attentively and with a smile – owner Bob Lovejoy walked in from the (fantastic) bar next door, The Pickle Room. 
(Bob’s really got a lot happening over on East Canon Perdido. Very cool.) He and Chef Ryoji are longtime friends,

A cold Japanese beer and a bit of sake really rounds the whole experience out. I’m telling you, Tsukemono. Get in there.

so the business combination makes a lot sense. “There are some fancy sushi places in and around Santa Barbara,” Bob told me, flashing his near-constant easy smile. “But I’m a meat-and-potato guy. We aren’t trying to be fancy; there’s a time and place for that. We just want to serve fresh, simple and delicious sushi in a relaxed, welcoming setting. And I think we are doing just that.” Indeed they are. The 
Ceviche Roll(!) I tried was creative and “citrusly” delicious. It gets a bit messy, sure, but it’s worth it. (Just tell your date to look away.) And there’s fresh tuna, yellowtail, octopus, eel… it’s all available. And it’s all good. For me, anecdotally, the larger the fish part of the equation, when

compared to the rice and other portions, the better. And Tsukemono has a terrific fish portion. They also make their own soy sauce. (Yum.) So I’m happy. Very happy. Also, if you have something you’d like in mind, just tell Chef Ryoji or Ben. It’s casual and relaxed and requests are encouraged. With that said, don’t expect to see any fried food or teriyaki dishes; Tsukemono is strictly sushi. (You know, for the purists.) 
Yes, friends, there are many sushi places in town, and a good number of them are indeed terrific spots. But if quick, simple, relaxed and sinfully delightful sushi is on your agenda for the day, then you really can’t go wrong with Bob Lovejoy’s latest offering on East Canon Perdido.  Hey, here’s a thought: Hit Three Pickles for lunch (and maybe a beer on draft); then enjoy a pre-dinner cocktail at The Pickle Room followed by some super sushi at Tsukemono. Remember to ask Chef Ryoji for whatever you’d like. Unless it’s a Gaucho sandwich.  

Tsukemono is located at 126 East Canon Perdido, but you already knew that. Open Tuesday-Thursday 5:30pm-10pm and Friday & Saturday 5:30pm-11pm. (805) 965-1015. See you there, sushi lovers!

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EQUESTRIAN RETREAT | WEB: 0113746 | $2,950,000 Suzanne Perkins 805.895.2138

YOUR OWN CLUB | WEB: 0113735 | $2,695,000 Harry Kolb 805.452.2500

ROMANTIC RIVIERA ESTATE | WEB: 0592769 | $2,695,000 Justin Corrado 805.451.9969

HOPE RANCH OPPORTUNITY | WEB: 0592760 | $2,595,000 Stephanie Wilson 805.895.3270, Ed Kaleugher, Gail Beust

CAPE COD-STYLE VIEW HOME | WEB: 0632199 | $2,350,000 Cristal Clarke 805.886.9378

STYLISH UPPER EAST | WEB: 0632188 | $2,200,000 Karen Strickland 805.455.3226


EQUESTRIAN COMPOUND | WEB: 0621544 | $5,999,995 Patty Murphy 805.680.8571

UNDERSTATED ELEGANCE | WEB: 0621589 | $2,775,000 Petie Kern 800.239.7377

SANTA YNEZ VALLEY RETREAT | WEB: 0621593 | $1,475,000 Patricia Castillo 805.570.6593

SANTA BARBARA AREA BROKERAGES | | MONTECITO COAST VILLAGE ROAD | MONTECITO UPPER VILLAGE | SANTA BARBARA STATE STREET | SANTA YNEZ VALLEY Sotheby’s International Realty and the Sotheby’s International Realty logo are registered (or unregistered) service marks used with permission. Operated by Sotheby’s International Realty, Inc.

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