For the second time in as many months, I had double Santa Barbara overnights. The previous time, I was here, it was grey, cold, wet, and rainy, so it wasn't terribly enjoyable. This time, however, it was sunny and warm. The first day I went for a run, logging 8 miles from the hotel to downtown, the pier, and back. As it was St Patrick's Day, the streets were littered with amateur drinkers and slow walkers marching 6 abreast. The sidewalks were wide, but I still had to Barry Sanders my way through the crowd. 
The following day, we got back a little later in the afternoon, so I wasn't as ambitious. I walked over to the Old Santa Barbara Mission to take a couple pictures and walked back to the hotel (stopping at Chick-Fil-A enroute). It's a very pretty place (Santa Barbara, not Chick-Fil-A), but it is also very expensive and a bit yuppie. It is known as the American Riviera, a gateway to wine country, and its populace has earned the nickname of Santa Barbarians. Many a flight attendant have been turned off by the entitled ways of the Santa Barbarian.
I have not encountered these attitudes firsthand, but I have heard many a war story. Anyone who is flying on a CRJ-200 should not take themselves too seriously, but perhaps the Santa Barbarians get confused and think it's like a private jet because it's small. The CRJ-200 is the great equalizer in society. It's Marxism put into practice. There is no first class. In fact, there are no good seats. Overhead bin space is rubbish. You can't really see out the window. The temperature control is hot when you want it cool and freezing when you want it warm.
