Santa Barbara is not State Street and vice versa. From Eastside restaurants to Hendry’s Sunday sunset family gatherings and all the lands betwixt, the city takes meaning and shape from many neighborhoods, shabby to chic, places where we live, dine, dance and shop; this naked city has 100,000 hearts.
But today we hear our main drag is in trouble again. And doomsayers make it seem like the vitality of State could threaten the health of our whole town.
But I wonder about the fuss. We know that everything changes all the time, even civic centers (consider downtown Los Angeles for a rise, fall, and rise scenario). Besides, people shop everywhere nowadays including in the aether; downtown isn’t the only suffering party. But truly, old timers don’t much visit State Street anymore unless they want to see a movie or their grandkids in a parade. Young timers are a lot more likely to barhop off Chapala Street or in Old Town Goleta. (Or in other parts of State Street that we are not discussing yet.) Many avoid the area fearing “aggressive panhandlers,” the exaggerated blight of conspicuous poverty. That avoidance wasn’t true back when State was a cruising zone with warring high school football teams orbiting the KIST building, or back when schmooze-shopping at a host of local businesses like the Hughes, Kernohans, and Earthling Books drew most people there. For one shining decade, discotheques bloomed from the Art Museum to the railroads. That was then. There were ups and downs, but right now, traffic is down and disco long dead. The police don't like dance floors, anyway.