Sunset Rubdown
Random Spirit Lover
Jagjaguwar

{grate 3.5}

Once upon a time, a Canadian singer named Spencer Krug
traveled the world defeating things of winged and wicked nature, riding his
stallion across the land in search of hunters and the diamonds they carried. He
and his band of merry companions, together called Sunset Rubdown, documented
their journey in Random Spirit Lover using only the instruments on their backs.

Their journey began abruptly one morning when the quartet
awoke to a jaunty guitar riff accompanied by staccato piano known as “The
Mending of the Gown,” which lacked nuance but served as an adequate wake-up
call, dense with mythical imagery. They knew it was time to leave for the ocean
where the hunters dwelled, so Krug quickly gave a toast; he said, “This one’s
for Maggie, and this one’s for Sam,” and the adventure could begin.

As Sunset Rubdown bushwhacked through the backwoods of empty
kingdoms, “Magic vs. Midas” reminded them to take the occasional break and
count their lucky stars. They sat in a circle, gently strumming bonfire
acoustics and exploring Casio pads that suited their off-kilter renaissance
balladry. Once dawn faded into morning, the caravan resumed its brisk pace,
yodeling various accusations at each other over synth and glockenspiel, then
autoharping themselves to tropical villages in “For the Pier (and Dead
Shimmering),” until finally they tired and set up camp near a local theatre
troupe by the coast.

It was opening night, so the band took their seats far from
the stage and complemented the actors with drum rolls and dissonant shrieks
both electric and organic, which the audience adored. But once Spencer and his
friends reached the hunters’ ocean caves, they did not find any diamonds. For
the last time, the group huddled together and passed around an acoustic guitar,
ending their journey on a somber note. Spencer was determined to return after
another season of honing his craft, older and wiser.

— Chris Kokiousis

Staff Writer

Britney Spears
Blackout
Jive Records

{grate 2.5}

Dear God, could it be true? Could the tabloid mess that is
Britney Spears actually produce a compact disc fit for more than propping open
doors at a future ‘00s party? Spears’ fourth release, coming after a four-year
musical void, is the booty-shaking electro-pop delight we wanted to expect from
the former teen queen and her winning entourage: production giants the Neptunes
and Timbaland protege Nate “Danjahandz” Hills (who also worked on Justin
Timberlake’s FutureSex/LoveSounds). Blackout is packed with 12 tracks as
danceable as they are dumb, a musical Candyland in which Spears’ digitized
vocal chords take a backseat to her infamous vagina, thrust to the forefront of
just about every song.

“Taste it/ I’ll make sure you eat every crumb off the
plate,” she moans on “Kiss You All Over,” one of many pussy-love sermons in her
brow-raising sexual buffet, oozing innuendo and wishful lust. Though the hot
body that once backed the lyrics has since grown a little chub, the blatant lie
behind her latest batch of songs doesn’t dispel any of Britney’s magic. Her
limited soprano whine and forced husk are so expertly spliced and chopped
within the club bang of every track (save for “Hot as Ice,” where the whine
finally manages to conquer all) that in the end, Spears is actually triumphed
by her own music, one more degrading thrill on her long list of charming
shortcomings.

Born of machine, man and controlled substances, Blackout is
a hyper dance experience in the vein of Madonna’s Confessions on a Dance Floor,
but without the flirty innovation that earned Spears her guilty-pleasure throne.
Despite a limp disposition and oft-nauseating Mickey Mouse pitch, Spears’
pervading train-wreck magnetism — along with some shining neo-hip-hop synths,
on which Brit-Brit even attempts to rap (not nearly as scary as it sounds) —
will ensure her a spot in clubs around the world for years to come. To hell
with the critics — she’ll just pop a Cheeto in her mouth and use the stack of
reviews to wipe up her spilt Slurpee. Because the notorious Spears has proved
herself humanity’s equivalent to a roach: No nuclear bomb nor hateful headline
can stop her.

— Autumn Schuster

Senior Staff Writer

Student Center has been consumed with construction over the
last three years, and many of the site’s organizations have suffered as a
result. But at least one is ready to make a solid comeback: KSDT, UCSD’s
student-run Internet-broadcast radio station.

For the last two years, the station has been plagued with
construction-related issues and mechanical problems that has largely kept it
off the air. According to Sixth College senior and KSDT General Manager Ivan
Dominguez, delays began when a large mound of dirt was stored just outside the
radio’s DJ booth because of construction. Then disaster hit.

“There were really heavy rains that year and all that dirt
became mud,” Dominguez said. “It slid underneath the walls and came up through
the floors.”

The office was damaged during the mudslide and had to be
vacuumed for days, putting the station out of service for close to two quarters
and resulting in the loss of about half the station’s record collection. The
station’s aged, main mixing board then stopped working which postponed the
radio’s schedule yet again.

“Last year we were
inundated with construction,” KSDT Operations Manager Honoré Pedigo said. “We
tried to move some place else but it didn’t work out properly, so we were down
for the entire year. … This is our first quarter back after a year of being
gone. We’re actually really grateful for all the DJs who were here before and
who have now come back. It’s been a whole new challenge trying to advertise and
get everything back up and telling people we exist when they haven’t previously
seen us.”

The station’s staff faces one main obstacle in raising their
profile to gain an audience: UCSD students can’t stumble across the station on
the radio because KSDT only streams from its Web site at ksdt.ucsd.edu.

According to Dominguez, KSDT started out as a true radio
station, but soon had to move to purely online broadcasting.

“In a few years,
airways filled up and low frequency transmissions were outlawed by [the Federal
Communications Commission] in San Diego and Mexican airspace … even if we had a
signal, a lot of it would get squashed out by other signals.”

Pedigo added that the FCC expenses were another challenge in
becoming a real radio station.

“I would love to, but it’s just not feasible for us at this
point,” she said.

Instead, the station continually streams from its Web site
while remaining dedicated to its “fiercely independent” roots.

“We try to shy away from [playing] anything that really
deviates from the mission of the radio station, which is to provide an
alternate music source for everyone — stuff other than what you hear on the
radio,” Dominguez said.

Music Directors Cynthia Orantes and Juan Landeros decide
what can be played on KSDT; they listen to all CDs and demos sent to the
station, then choose what is added to the station’s library. The pair also has
the power to reject artists from KSDT broadcasts based on their rising
popularity on regular radio stations.

However, Pedigo said the types of music KSDT DJs play don’t
change based on the opinions of the music directors.

“DJs are required to play at least two new adds a show, but
other than that they can play whatever is in our music library or in their
personal library.”

The number of DJs changes at least every quarter, constantly
altering KSDT’s style of music.

“If you have never been a DJ before, we’ll train you and
give you a show if there’s a slot open,” Pedigo said. “We try to be as open as possible and as
friendly as possible.”

Although the station is currently broadcasting a random mix
of songs from its automated DJ, dubbed “Satan,” live shows should start within
the next two weeks. The station’s future plans include live bands, dance
parties and possibly even an online magazine.

KSDT fosters a relaxing and welcoming environment that
encourages students to discover new and unknown music.

“It’s just a big community space and you can just hang out
and meet people,” Pedigo said. “I can just come in, do my show, play the music
as loud as I want and just sit back and chill. There’s no better feeling in the
world for me than that. That will make my day.”

At Cafe Sevilla’s Saturday night Flamenco Gypsy Fusion show, members of the band Gipsy King Family jam as a flamenco dancer moves to the music. (Jaclyn Snow/Guardian)

Anyone who has ever visited southern Spain knows the
food is hit or miss. When the Spaniards hit, though, they hit. San Diego
restaurant Cafe Sevilla serves up the region’s best of the best while
delighting diners with authentic flamenco shows, allowing them to skip the Lays
jamón jamón potato chips, a ham-flavored snack that turns most American
stomachs.

The cafe’s claim to fame is flamenco, a musical genre that
was born in Sevilla, Spain at the end of the 15th
century. Once an obscure dance unknown outside its birthplace, flamenco is
undergoing a renaissance that Cafe Sevilla capitalizes on by bringing a bit of
Spanish flair to San Diego.

Cafe Sevilla transports its guests to Spain the
moment they walk through the door. The interior is reminiscent of the many
sparse, cave-like bars that define the pub scene in Andalusia, the southern
part of Spain.
The building’s brick walls and ceiling pipes are exposed, and packed-in tables
that put diners within inches of each other. The main decorations are
Picasso-inspired paintings that cover the walls.

The Friday and Sunday flamenco shows, which place spectators
right in the action at this crowded venue, are about $10 cheaper than the
$47.50 Saturday Flamenco Gypsy Fusion dinner shows. But the hefty price is
worth it: Josef, a musician from the Gipsy King Family, often plays guitar and
sings his version of gypsy fusion, including many familiar songs from the Gipsy
King’s collection. With sharp and emotionally charged gestures, dancers
complement the serious but colorful flamenco-guitar music, experimenting with
movement and channeling Middle Eastern elements (like using a sword as a dance
prop) — showing that many cultural influences define flamenco.

The show comes with a three-course meal, which includes flan
and paella, a traditional Spanish dish of meat or seafood and rice. The
authentic tapas and appetizers could be from any restaurant in Spain, with
stuffed olives and tortilla Espanola as staples. No Spanish meal would be
complete without a glass of sangria, and Cafe Sevilla offers Sangratini and
Sangarita variations for adventurous diners. After the show, Cafe Sevilla
transforms into a nightclub and dinner guests are invited to stick around,
skipping the lines and cover charges.

Because of the cafe’s location in downtown San Diego’s
bustling Gaslamp District, shows sell out regularly, so call early for
reservations and tickets. Parking can be a hassle, especially on weekends, but
Horton Plaza has free three hour parking with validation. Although Cafe Sevilla
is more expensive than most restaurants in Spain, the price is worth a night on
the town and a truely authentic Spanish meal.

— Jaclyn Snow

Senior Staff Writer

Cafe Sevilla

555 4th Ave., San Diego CA 92101

(619) 233-5979

Before I visited Qualcomm
Stadium on Oct. 24, visions of Hurricane Katrina and the turmoil at the
Louisiana Superdome in 2005 ignited my imagination, conjuring up the image of a
stadium packed to the brim with evacuees, perhaps begging for water. So I
prepared myself for the worst, but in the only way I knew how: my camera
batteries were fully charged and I had enough memory cards to last me a week.
If my digital single-lens reflex camera failed me, two film cameras backed me
up. When I was ready, camera straps covered my chest like bandoliers.

But this was not Katrina. I was surprised to encounter what
looked more like a carnival than an emergency shelter.

Previously, with the temperature well into the 90s, the
fires seemed closer than they actually were. The smoky haze gave midday a
sunset color and kept me expecting to see flames licking the nearest hillside.
I had mostly stayed indoors since the fires broke out. Even the allure of
taking awe-inspiring fire photos firsthand was not enough to get me to leave my
apartment. By Oct. 24, I was still not happy about being outside, even though
the photographer’s urge had caught up with me and I was eager to begin
documenting some responses to the emergency.

In the early afternoon I arrived at Qualcomm with my camera
gear and two grocery bags full of canned food to donate. Volunteers in the
parking lot turned the food away — my first hint that the situation was not as
dire as I had imagined. I was completely disarmed of my crisis mentality the
minute I stepped through the stadium entrance, where I saw kids jumping rope,
volunteers hosting an improvisation show and still more volunteers carrying
signs directing evacuees to massage and acupuncture booths. On a walk around
the stadium’s ground level, I passed mountains of bottled water, heaps of
donated clothing, children coloring, at least a dozen news crews replete with
cameras and reporters and even a couple of performers on stilts passing out
candy. The stark contrast between my impression of the emergency up to that
point and the positive frenzy within Qualcomm
was disorienting.

Leaving the ground floor of the stadium and heading to the
upper decks gave me an idea of why this group required such extensive aid.
Camping tents punctuated rows of unoccupied cots. Despite being bathed by the
warm glow of sunset, they seemed cold and exposed. Compared to the bustling
ground level they were almost unpopulated, but this made sense; Qualcomm held
about 10,000 evacuees at its peak, but by the time I visited there were about
2,500 and the number was falling fast.

Indeed, by Oct. 26 they would all be relocated, regardless
of whether they had a home to return to: the Chargers would play the Texans in the
stadium on Oct. 28. In the uppermost seats, where I might otherwise find
dedicated fans cheering for a fourth-quarter comeback, I found a handful of
people facing a blank field, with each person having one or two entire seating
sections to themselves.

While taking a picture of a tent facing the field, I noticed
a woman sitting alone just a few seats away. I thought of asking for her story,
but I realized that someone who has climbed to the top of an empty football
stadium might just want to be alone. There are some things for which community
outreach and free acupuncture just cannot offer solace.

It would be an understatement to say I was surprised by the
success of so many volunteers raising the spirits of so many more evacuees.

No photographer wants to photograph tragedy. It takes a lot
of effort to come to terms with making aesthetic choices and producing images
of an individual’s often very personal suffering. To do this, photojournalists
have to not only treat their subjects with respect, but also accept in their
conscience that they are not just taking a picture from their subjects, but
also giving them a voice and making their strife, joy or anger the concern of a
larger, powerful public.

Going to Qualcomm with the fear that I would have to shoulder
a great burden in providing some outlet for these evacuees, I was relieved and
exhilarated to photograph a group that had already been heard and answered by a
community offering overwhelming support.

Tucked away in the corner of John Muir College and down the steps beneath
Sierra Summit is a college-campus rarity. There, one may find skate lessons
being taught, guitar chords being strummed, boards being repaired or surf
melodies softly sounding from behind glass walls.

Muir Surf and Sport Team Manager Scott Lembach slides his skateboard at Mayhem at Muir II, a promotional event organized by both Lembach and the UCSD Skate Club. (Karen Ling/Guardian)

There lies Muir Surf and Sport, UCSD’s two-year-old surf and
skate hub and still the only board shop on any college campus in the nation.
While the small-time shop may be difficult to locate, it may be hard to leave once you get there.

It could be the rows of fluorescent-colored wheels on the
wooden skateboard decks that draw people in, or perhaps the stylish apparel and
gleaming white surfboards that entice students through the windows. Or maybe
it’s the store’s ambiance, which welcomes people with its acoustic-heavy
playlists, surf videos, orange swivel chairs and bright-faced staff.

The man behind the establishment, Scott Lembach, is an
energetic salesman who moved from Baltimore in
1997 to pursue the San Diego
surfer’s lifestyle, Lembach was approached by Muir College Center Manager Vince
Manson to compose a proposal to open a campus surf shop. Because a board-sports
shop was among the top student requests for the vacant retail space, the
college accepted Lembach’s proposal, and Muir Surf and Sport opened in
September 2005.

Now Lembach spends nearly all week in the shop, summer
included, eagerly sharing his knowledge about his latest products and — if the
timing is right — the incoming northwest swell.

“This is my life,” Lembach said. “If I’m not working, I’m
surfing, skating or snowboarding. It just happened to work out in my favor
because I love what I’m doing.”

The goal of Muir Surf and Sport has always been to bring
value to students, said Lembach, who added that he seeks vendor discounts in
order to offer products to students at affordable prices. The staff prides
itself on below-retail-value prices that help bring oft-expensive action sports
to the campus community.

A board shop seems like a natural fit for a campus dubbed
the “Best School for Surfing” by Sports Illustrated, but catering to the
average, academically focused UCSD student has proved challenging, according to
Lembach.

“All that these kids have been doing their whole lives is
studying,” he said. “When they get a skateboard, it changes their lives.”

The shop’s obscure location and modest size, however, have
been the toughest obstacles to confront. To maximize space within the
440-square-foot store, the staff built custom skateboard racks this year to
lift the boards off the floor and place them at eye level. A new Web site was
also created about six months ago to increase access and launch online sales.
The shop now offers three new skateboard brands, along with the new Muir Surf
and Sport brand.

With the exception of Lembach, Muir Surf and Sport is run by
UCSD students and alumni. Among them are Muir College senior Marc Leglise as
webmaster; Muir College junior Sergie Magdalin, who is the graphic art and
design manager responsible for the new Muir Surf and Sport clothing and
skateboard designs; and UCSD alumnus Matt Goldstone as the new co-manager,
charged with updating the Web site, developing a new inventory system, managing
daily operations and supervising the shop while Lembach takes his midday surf
break.

Thurgood Marshall College senior Kristian Gustavson,
Lembach’s roommate, points to his board-sport knowledge and friendly attitude
as reasons for the shop’s success.

“Scott understands students,” Gustavson said. “He’s out at
the skate parks grinding, he’s out at Black’s dropping into closed-out sets.
The guy is crazy. He’s not a hypocritical owner like a lot of guys out there.
He rips harder than most guys I know.”

Muir Surf and Sport is also focusing on bringing the shop to
students by holding five to six events every year while also increasing its
presence in the San Diego community.

Last week, Lembach and three UCSD seniors — Gustavson,
Michael Almeida and Sasha Savanovic brought a minivan full of skateboards,
shirts and stencils to Qualcomm Stadium and Steele Canyon High School evacuation
centers to distract disillusioned evacuees. Kids weaved through orange cones in
competition for a new skateboard, parents and their children designed their own
shirts and the shop gave away Muir Surf and Sport apparel.

Most people would say Lembach is just one of the kids,
participating with the students at events.

“I get caught in the middle and by the time I’m done, it’s
over,” Lembach said Oct. 24 at Qualcomm, skateboard in hand. “The time has
passed and I have the time of my life. I don’t even think about the business
aspect of it.”

Sophomore two-meter offense Daniel Garcia scored against Loyola Marymount University on Oct. 27, but it wasn’t enough as the Tritons fell by a score of 9-4. (Erik Jepsen/Guardian)

After a week of disrupted practices due to the San Diego fires, the No.
14 UCSD men’s water polo team faced No. 10 Loyola Marymount University on Oct.
27 in its final game against a Western Water Polo Association opponent before
the conference championships from Nov. 16 through Nov. 18. The Tritons started
the game strongly, but fell behind in the second half to take the 9-4 loss,
which dropped their record to 10-13 for the season.

The Tritons were unable get into a pool to practice Monday,
Tuesday and Wednesday last week because the air quality was deemed unhealthy,
and the team’s rustiness was evident in its loss.

“For the first part of the week, we couldn’t do anything,”
senior two-meter Simon Schafer said. “LMU offered us pool time, but the
northbound I-5 was closed. We made the decision to drive up on Thursday morning
to practice at LMU.”

The Tritons practiced at Loyola Marymount University for
three days leading up to the game.

The game began well for the Tritons with junior driver
Chance Vermilyea opening up the game’s scoring with a counterattack goal midway
through the first quarter. However, the Lions answered with 1 minute, 47
seconds left in the first quarter to tie the game.

The Lions carried their momentum into the second quarter,
scoring and putting UCSD in a 3-1 hole. The Tritons responded with a goal from
sophomore two-meter Daniel Garcia to keep the game close, trailing Loyola
Marymount by just one goal going into halftime.

The third quarter proved to be the game’s deciding period as
the Lions scored three unanswered goals in the quarter to take a 6-2 lead,
putting UCSD in an ultimately insurmountable hole.

According to Schafer, the Lions pulled away by making the
most of several costly errors by the Tritons.

“There were just a few minutes in the third quarter where we
went from being down by one goal to being down by four goals,” he said. “We
made a series of mistakes and [LMU] took advantage of its opportunities while
we didn’t capitalize on ours.”

The Tritons added scores from sophomore utility Ian Bausback
and Schafer in the fourth quarter but it wasn’t enough for UCSD as Loyola
Marymount scored three more times in the period to give the Lions a 9-4 win.

The Tritons struggled on their six-on-five opportunities
throughout the game, converting on only one of eight chances.

Their limited pool time for the week may have had an effect
on the Tritons’ poor man-up play.

“We weren’t able to practice any water polo plays early in
the week,” Bausback said. “We couldn’t work on our 6-on-5 man-up offense, which
hurt us.”

In addition to hindering UCSD’s ability to work on its
plays, the fires’ impacts stole some of the Tritons’ momentum from their strong
game against UC Davis the previous week.

The Tritons hoped to return to Canyonview Pool on Oct. 28 for
practice, but were still awaiting approval regarding air quality.

UCSD will face No. 4 UCLA at home on Nov. 3 in its first of
three games against Mountain Pacific Sports Federation opponents before the
WWPA championships. After their game against UCLA, the Tritons will be on the
road against No. 9 UC Irvine on Nov. 7 and No. 5 Pepperdine University on Nov.
10.

“I think [the game against UCLA] is going to be a great
opportunity to come together and eliminate some of our mistakes,” Bausback
said. “We’re excited to play UCLA and other high-caliber team MPSF teams.”

Even though the Tritons will be using these three games as
preparation for the WWPA championships, they are also looking to get back on
the winning track and end their four-game skid.

“We are capable of mounting an attack on a great team like
UCLA and we’re not going to back down,” Schafer said. “We’re not expecting to
lose.”

After hosting No. 4 UCLA on
Nov. 3, the Tritons will not get a break from ranked opponents as they
finish the regular season. They will take to the road for their final two games
aginst No. 9 UC Irvine on Nov. 7 and No. 5 Pepperdine on Nov. 10.

Just when it seems the UCSD women’s volleyball team has all
its parts functioning as a unit, it hits a bump. Rather than falling apart,
however, the 2007 Tritons always seem to rally, and this weekend’s upset of No.
2 Cal State San Bernardino was the perfect example.

Senior outside hitter Casey Wilson uses her 5-foot-10-inch frame to tower over Cal State Stanislaus defenders stretching to block her kill attempt in UCSD’s win over the Warriors on Oct. 19. (Sanh Luong/Guardian)

Heading into arguably its toughest three-game stretch, UCSD
downed No. 19 Chico State at home on Oct. 20 in a powerful sweep. Hoping to
ride the high from that victory, the Tritons packed their bags and headed on
the road into hostile territory Oct. 27 at Cal Poly Pomona and Oct. 28 at No. 2
Cal State San Bernardino. Two more wins, and the Tritons would solidify
themselves as title contenders.

However, the Tritons suffered a heartbreaking five-game loss
to Cal Poly Pomona. They were able to rebound with a five-game comeback win
against Cal State San Bernardino. The topsy-turvy results have left the team in
a state of wonder, and at 10-5 in the California Collegiate Athletic Conference
and 16-7 overall, the players are ignoring talk of inconsistency.

“You have to take the season in halves,” head coach Tom
Black said. “Experience is experience and we were trying to find our line up
during the first half. Sure the Pomona loss was disappointing, but you can’t
say we’re inconsistent. We had a lead in the fifth and let it slip away. We’ve
played really well the last seven games and these girls are a special team.”

Junior outside hitter Rebecca Bailey led the No. 20 Tritons with 19 kills, but it took an all-around team effort for UCSD to pull off a five-game upset of No. 2 Cal State San Bernardino on Oct. 27. (Sanh Luong/Guardian)

The Tritons had their chances in the 30-28, 30-32, 30-21,
18-30, 15-13 loss to Cal Poly Pomona, posting leads in games one and five, but
were unable to finish in both cases.

UCSD led 25-22 in game one but allowed the Broncos to go on
a six-point run to give them a 28-26 advantage. Cal Poly Pomona completed the
comeback in game one on a Triton error.

Again with the late advantage in game two at 25-21, the
Tritons opened the door for the Broncos, who walked in and tied the game at 26.
UCSD scored three straight to regain the lead but the Broncos staved off the
loss with four straight points to give themselves a game point 30-29. But the
Tritons didn’t give up the comeback this time as junior outside hitter Rebecca
Bailey tied the game with a kill, and kills by senior outside hitter Casey
Wilson and senior opposite Amber Ries finished a nerve-racking game two win for
UCSD.

According to Black, the Broncos’ enthusiastic fans rattled
the Tritons, but UCSD was able to tune out the distractions.

“I think the crowd got us in the first game,” Black said.
“We leveled out after that and it was a battle.”

Games three and four were less-than-stellar performances by
both teams in their respective losses. Cal Poly Pomona dominated game three
leading by as many as 11 points before claiming the win. UCSD bounced back in
game four leading 20-12 and cruising to the win, forcing that decisive game
five.

With their adrenaline pumping, the Tritons kept their
emotions in check and stormed out to a 13-10 lead in game five. But two points
away from the victory, Cal Poly Pomona ended the match and the comeback with a
five-point run that left the Tritons in shock.

“We made some errors on our side of the court,” Bailey said.
“Having a three-, four- or five-point lead can go quickly in a fifth game. We
didn’t blow them off, but we didn’t take them as seriously as we should have.”

After taking such a draining defeat the night before, UCSD
muscled the courage to head into conference-unbeaten Cal State San Bernardino
and pull of an improbable comeback win: 23-30, 13-30, 30-25, 30-27, 15-12.

The Tritons started off slow in games one and two, looking
like a team that had just played a tiring five-game match the night before. The
Coyotes jumped ahead early and often, never allowing UCSD take the lead in
either of the first two games.

“We made a lot of unforced errors on our side,” sophomore
outside hitter Sylvia Schmidt said. “Natalie [Facchini] had a serving run that
really put us in a good position. We were embarrassed those first two games but
we came back out with pride and started executing.”

UCSD finally gained its first lead of the match in game
three at 17-15, and the lead stretched to 27-20 after aggressive serving by
junior defensive specialist Michelle Torres. Cal State San Bernardino fought
back with a five-point run, but sophomore middle blocker Sylvia Schmidt ended
the game with a pair of kills.

With momentum shifting in favor of the Tritons, the Coyotes
battled back to an early 10-4 advantage in game four. The lead carried to 25-20
before UCSD took control. Following a Coyote error, UCSD recorded a pair of
blocks and kills to take a 28-27 lead. Coming out of a Cal State San Bernardino
timeout, UCSD scored a triple block, supplemented by another Schmidt kill, to
give the Tritons the game.

The Tritons fell behind early again in game five but grew
stronger after back-to-back kills by Schmidt and Bailey. Up 8-6, Torres served
up an ace and Schmidt tallied a block and a kill, and the teams exchanged
points to push the score to 14-12. Schmidt once again rose to the occasion and finished
off the Coyotes with an emphatic kill to seal the Tritons’ victory.

UCSD’s win may have seemed unlikely on the heels of the
preceding night’s disappointing loss, but the Tritons rallied and played
together to get back on track.

“I don’t know if all the girls came in thinking they could
win,” Black said. “But we had a gut check after game two and we all got on the
same page. [Cal State San Bernardino] is as good as any team in the country and
I’m proud of the girls for how they responded.”

Schmidt came up huge for the Tritons in pressure situations
at the end of games and finished with 16 kills. Bailey led the team with 19 and
Ries added 13.

Next up for UCSD is a road match against Humboldt State
on Nov. 2.

The UCSD men’s golf team improved on its season-opening
finish, taking seventh at the Sonoma State Invitational that took place just
north of San Francisco
from Oct. 22 through Oct. 23.

While the wildfires raged through Southern
California, canceling sports events across the region, the Tritons
escaped to safer territory and tried not to let the disaster at home affect
their focus.

“It would be a lie to say that the fires had a bad effect on
us,” head coach Mike Wydra said. “Both Nathan Phan’s and my family were
evacuated so we didn’t know if our homes were still there. But we’re not going
to use that as an excuse.”

Junior Nathan Phan was able to put the disaster to the back
of his mind and focus on his task at hand. He fired rounds of 72-69-75 for an
even-par 216 total and was UCSD’s top individual. His 15th-place finish was
supported by a 21st-place finish by sophomore Austin Alfonso, who shot a
five-over-par 221.

The Tritons opened up round one on Oct. 22, posting a team
total of 295 on the 6,711-yard Santa Rosa Golf and Country Club. Phan led the
way with his even-par 72. Even though the conditions were difficult, the low
scores were out there.

“This tournament was changed from the spring to fall because
the course doesn’t drain well,” Wydra said. “It got about a half inch of rain
before the tournament so the course was very soft. The greens were in good
shape and we played lift, clean and place both days. Anytime you put your hands
on the ball it becomes easier to shoot those low scores.”

After the grueling first 18 holes, UCSD and the other nine
squads headed back out for second-round action.

As a team, the Tritons combined for an identical 295,
totaling 590 for the day. Phan put himself in medalist contention with a three-under-par
69. The other Triton golfers played well, but couldn’t turn in the same
impressive performance as Phan.

“Nathan is in his third year and hasn’t played up to his
standards before this year,” Wydra said. “Ever since the final round 68 during
regionals last year, he has been playing really well and striking the ball
beautifully.”

Phan cooled down during the final round with a three-over 75
to finish even for the tournament. Juniors Ryan Bailey and Billy Olsen and
freshman Bryan Olshock rounded out the other UCSD competitors, finishing 42nd,
43rd, and 45th respectively.

Overall, Wydra was pleased with the team’s performance,
considering the circumstances at home.

“The previous event we averaged just over 300 and we got
that number down to 295 this week,” he said. “We didn’t putt terribly well and
had we, the scores would’ve reflected that. But they’re getting into the season
now.”

Next up for UCSD is the Mauna Lani Invitational from Oct. 29
through Oct. 30 in Hawaii. The invitational marks the end of the Tritons’ fall
season, as the team won’t see tournament action until February.

Four of the five members competing this week haven’t
competed in Hawaii
before. According to Wydra, the Bermuda grass makes the greens in Hawaii very difficult to
read but he believes that with such a talented and advanced group, they should
adapt quickly and perform well.

To be honest, I was happy when I woke up on Oct. 22 to find
out that school was canceled. Wildfires, schmildfires — I just wanted some
extra hours of snooze time.

Then, when I heard classes were canceled on Oct. 23, I was
ecstatic; two most-likely difficult midterms were postponed, giving me extra
time to study.

I spent the day lounging with my friends and watching the
television’s fire coverage, joking about the brown ashes hovering in the
distance, the source of the “unhealthy air” that forced UCSD to shut down.

I wasn’t really grasping the concept that people’s homes —
and lives — were burning to the ground while remained safe at home and took the
day off, and that’s all that mattered, right?

When I was asked to head to the Mira Mesa High School
evacuation center to interview evacuees for the Guardian, I didn’t hesitate. It
would be cake, I thought. I would do my interviews, type them out and then head
to the bars for a night of drinking.

I didn’t expect to pull up to a parking lot overflowing with
vehicles. After finding a spot, I headed past a large canopy housing volunteers
who sorted through donated bottled water, blankets and food.

I kept walking, and was immediately struck by the dozens of
people I saw camping out in tents in the quad. Hundreds more lined the gym.

The first person I talked to — Joy Stone, 37, of Rancho
Bernardo, one of the hardest-hit areas — looked exhausted and bleary-eyed.

She told me that her home had burned down and she was able
to make it out with no possessions other than the clothes on her back and her
two cats.

More upset about losing her possessions — she talked at
length about a toy train set from her father’s childhood, and I dared not
interrupt her — than her home, she never once cried.

Instead, she expressed gratitude for the volunteers at the
shelter, emphasizing how patient and accommodating they were.

A cell phone call finally interrupted our conversation, and
she smiled, shook my hand and thanked me for talking to her before answering.

I didn’t go out that night.

As the four of us climbed into my boyfriend’s Honda Accord I
felt a rush of adventure — we were going to drive into the fire’s den to get
back to our evacuated house. Or try to, at least.

But it’s easier said than done. My father, sitting in the
passenger seat, was wearing an FBI hat he bought during our last trip to
Universal Studios. He lives off of Highway 67 and less than a mile from Poway Road; The
area had been cut off from access for days with roads leading to our house
heavily barricaded and policed.

As we approached the roadblock my hands grew clammy — there
was no way we would pull this off. My dad got out with his knock-off FBI hat
on, and walked right up to the officer as if he owned the place. They exchanged
some words, after which the officer said, “I’m sorry boss, but I can’t even let
you in, not with those civilians in the car.”

We had been rejected and would have to return to our
temporary digs, not knowing if our house was still standing. But somehow, in
the midst of chaos and apprehension, there was a refreshing element of humor.
There we were, concocting outlandish stories for the police in an attempt to
get back home. How had we gotten here? I thought back to the start of the week.

Early in the morning on Oct. 22, I awoke in an indescribable
panic to a call from my editor telling me school had been canceled for the day
— there were several developing fires in the northeast portion of the county.

My thoughts immediately went to my dad, whose house had
burned in the 2003 Cedar Fires under a previous owner. Scrambling for my
computer with one ear glued to the radio, I frantically searched for news for
anything to quell the fear, but the information was just too scattered. All I
could gather was that my parents were under mandatory evacuation — something
they had yet to mention. So without any hesitation I picked up the phone.

“Dad, what’s going on? Where’s the fire? Why haven’t you
left yet?”

My parents were at their house and weren’t leaving. My dad was outside with a
generator, pump and fire hose, draining the water out of the pool to douse the surrounding area in liquid, in an
effort to deter the fire should it approach the house.

And so, against the wishes of my parents, I set out for
Poway, determined to reach them and convince them to leave their increasingly
threatened home. Cruising through deserted freeways, I was haunted by an eerie
feeling; No one wants to see their city looking like a ghost town.

When I reached Poway, however, the sight worsened. Fallen
trees lined the streets and flames engulfed the hillside near my parents’
house. It was like hell on earth.

Nearing the house, I was confronted with a crew of police
officers blocking the road to Highway 67 and directing drivers away from the
fire zone. With no other choice, I pulled into a nearby parking lot filled with
officers and spectators. I stood on the street watching flames bud on the hill
as helicopters arrived to drop retardents. For the next three hours I waited
for my parents to come down the hill, and when they finally did I met them with
the greatest sigh of relief I’ve ever had.

The rest of the week was spent in much the same manner —
waiting. Waiting after I got the call that my mother was also forced to leave
her home in Rancho Santa Fe. Waiting as news rolled in that close friends and
family had lost their homes. Waiting as the plumes grew larger and the hope
grew dimmer. Waiting at the corner of Highway 67 and Poway Road as cops and
National Guardsmen armed with shotguns staved off frustrated civilians
clamoring to get back home.

The end could not have come soon enough. Our house had
survived. After all the waiting we could finally go home; never had I felt so
lucky. And as I drove back through the mountainous roads to my father’s house I
realized just how fortunate we had been. Charred lands surrounded the area less
than half a mile from the house and with each passing hour came another tragic
story of a family home lost to the fire.

I cannot begin to comprehend the loss that many have
undergone this past week, but their strength has not ceased to impress me. The
road ahead is long, but if there’s anything to be learned from the disaster,
it’s that family and friends will always get us through. And that imitation FBI
paraphernalia is surprisingly believable.

"Do we have the computer backed up?”

That was the question from my nearly 50-year-old mother, a
poster child for living young-at-heart. A petite woman, she has always prided
herself on a high threshold for danger. Never in my life, however, have I seen
her so distraught as the day my house barely escaped utter demolition.

I come from a fairly irrelevant Orange County town where
wildfires are far from uncommon and they always seemed to work themselves out
in the end. At the first sign of a firestorm’s subsidence, families would
resume innocent rounds of Frisbee, catch and other storybook activities.

This past week, there was no ebullience to speak of. An
uncontained fire spawned torched houses, scarlet skies and helicopters buzzing overhead. In other
words, my once pristine and cheery neighborhood had been transmuted into a bona
fide war zone.

Never a hero, I decided to return to school, hoping for a
change of scenery. I was aware of the fires that had taken hold of San Diego,
but knew UCSD was in no tangible danger. So no one could possibly blow things
out of proportion. Needless to say, I was dead wrong.

I understand that proliferating ash and smoke could pose a
potentially noxious threat to people suffering from pulmonary or cardiac
conditions, but for UCSD’s healthy bookworms I doubt that two-minute walk to
Cafe Ventanas would cause any permanent damage. Spare me the frantic scramble
for those heinous-looking masks.

I find it funny that a youthful population so entrenched in
delusions of invincibility can be this terrified of something so unthreatening.
Air quality aside, UCSD’s physical campus was in no danger, so why the
melodramatic rumors of campus evacuation?

Given the circumstances, I find it entirely reasonable to be
concerned for one’s general well-being, especially those with asthma. But for
the rest of us, we were never officially instructed to evacuate (and if we were
it would have been appallingly unfounded) so take it easy, UCSD.

Your cherished dorm room will not go up in flames. Classes
will soon resume and your postponed midterms will be just as much a headache as
they were before the alleged on-campus disaster. Godspeed, Tritons. If I can be
so optimistic: When the next catastrophe strikes, let’s hope we’re equipped
with full-body bio-protection suits — and maybe some freeze-dried omelets or
something for good measure.

While a large number of fellow San Diegans were packing
their lives into their cars and preparing for the drive to Qualcomm Stadium, I
was busy discovering a whole new definition of awkward. Knocked out by a nasty
flu, I spent a day and a half sandwiched on the couch between my
still-technically-married-but-not-for-long parents, who, along with my two
teenage brothers and two dogs, were evacuated from our Carmel Valley
home Tuesday evening.

Though my two-bedroom apartment near UCSD was safely out of
any fire zones, it was not particularly equipped to hold seven stressed-out,
sleep-deprived people with a long history of gripes and grudges. In between
apologizing to my roommate and trying to keep two nervous golden retrievers
from alerting our landlady to the “no pets” rule violation, I had little time
to contemplate the white elephant in the room: If the Witch Creek fire made it
to the coast, our family home would be lost.

I’ve lived in San Diego my whole life, and although 2003’s
Cedar Fires were catastrophic in nature, they never got close enough to char my
bubble of safety. This time, however, it got to me. Maybe the situation was
exacerbated by the circumstances of my illness and the shouting matches between
my parents, but for the first time in my sheltered 21 years — I feared for my
family’s safety and well-being. Until you’ve experienced it, there’s really no
way to explain how vulnerable it makes you feel.

I can now look back on the events of four years ago as more
than just a week of dark orange skies and raining ash. When all the Cedar Fires
meant to me was seven days of no classes and frequent asthma attacks, I didn’t
have to think about the “What ifs.” My family was there with me, convincing me
that everything was going to be fine and I had no real cause for alarm.

I guess family roles change as you grow older.