FEBRUARY 2, 2007
SANTA BARBARA: AN APPRECIATION

So I'm back from the conference of the Association of Professional Pharmaceutical Professionals (or as I call it, AP3), the Pharma Industry's annual hang where drug manufacturers and reps confab about trends in healthcare and treatment. It's a pretty big meeting. Kind of like Burning Man, only it's at a convention center and everyone wears suits.

This year, it was in Chicago, and I thought that I'd bring you up to speed on a few of my key findings:

Toenail fungus is poised for a comeback this year, and Drucillinax is going to save us all.
Despite the many notable pharmaceutical breakthroughs of the past year, there remains a desperate need for a drug that prevents drunk pharma-conventioneers from shedding their clothes and running up and down the hallway when I'm trying to sleep.
I'm pretty sure Chicago is where winter spends the winter!

I know, an exclamation point, so you know I mean business when I say that the City of the Big Shoulders is f-r-e-e-z-i-n-g. And if you think I'm kidding, go ahead and try walking from the downtown Ramada to the Harold Washington Library on a Wednesday in February (only to find it closed for some kind of academic function). Still feel your toes? I didn't think so.

The fine citizens of Buffalo or Boston can talk all they want, but when that wind comes off the lake and slaps you in the face as you're walking to the comic book shop, you know that the cold was born in Chicago. I heard a few Chicagoans describe the cold as "bracing". I had my own term for it, but decorum prevents me from repeating it here.

And that, my friends, is why I winter in Santa Barbara. I fall, summer and spring there as well, but this is the time of the year when I appreciate my hometown the most. It may be because this is when all the tourists are gone and we Santa Barbarians get our town back, but it's probably because I don't have to put on snowshoes to go out and get the mail.

And here's something crazy: I'm always reminded when I travel that Santa Barbara is on surprisingly few radars. I wouldn't exactly say it's California's best kept secret, but most of the people I meet when I'm out of town talk about L.A. or San Francisco or Bakersfield or Fresno.

It's a shame really. I mention that the coastal region in which Santa Barbara is situated is nicknamed "The American Riviera", people just stare. And then when I explain that Santa Barbara has one of the California's largest concentrations of buildings in the Spanish Revival style, they kind of glaze over in wonder. And finally, when I lay it out that the famous Moreton Bay Fig, an 80 year old fig tree whose branches create one of the largest shaded areas of any tree in North America can be found in The SB, they just shake their heads and walk away. It's just too much for them to handle, I guess.

But then that's way it is with my hometown. It's a sleeper, a dark horse, and Santa Barbara's cultural contributions easily rival those of its northern neighbor, San Francisco (aka "The City", as its own smug residents call it) and Los Angeles (aka "Lala Land" as everyone calls it).

I'll bet you didn't know that if it weren't for Santa Barbara, Tom Cruise might have said "Talk to me, Goose" to Eric Stoltz or Pauly Shore, were it not for SB's own Anthony Edwards. And who was that, on the cover of all those Sports Illustrated swimsuit issues? That's right. Supermodel Kathy Ireland, born in Santa Barbara. Oh, and don't forget former NFL QB Randall Cunningham, Ultimate Fighting champion Chuck Liddell, and a little band called Toad the Wet Sprocket, maybe you've heard of them.

I could go on, believe me. I mean, what about Dingle, Ireland, one of Santa Barbara's seven sister cities, or the fact that the very first Motel 6 opened in Santa Barbara?

I would also be remiss if I didn't add that the pleasant climate and proximity to the sparkling Pacific would make Santa Barbara a terrific location for next year's AP3. So if you're reading this, board members of the Association of Professional Pharmaceutical Professionals, take note. It was freaking cold in Chicago.

Past Entries: