Last Tuesday, David and I were eating our dinner at McChipotle (for the second week in a row).

As I looked around, I realized what a safe little happy world our immediate little Far, Far, Far North Dallas environment is.

The restaurant was full of happy people. The employees were laughing and joking with the customers. A group of what looked to be several families was eating together at a large round table. Four young men of varying ethnicities who appeared to be in their late teens ate quietly with nice manners. A group of State Troopers arrived and ordered their dinners.

Afterwards, David and I wandered over to the new World Market, where we ran into LD's 4th grade teacher, and we all chatted for a while.

Everyone just seems to be at ease.

What a difference from "the big city", where I grew up!

Whenever we go to LD's elementary school and see 40+ bikes in the bike rack, most without locks, I always chuckle to myself and think, "Where I grew up, if it wasn't chained down (and sometimes if it was), it would be gone in a heartbeat.

When I lived in "L.A.", my car was broken into in the garage, twice. I was robbed at gunpoint at work. My brother walked into a robbery at a McDonalds. Our house was burglarized when I was a little kid, so I learned what insurance was when I was about six.

For years I carried my keys on a keychain that I found on my car after police officers arrested a fleeing suspect on the trunk of my car in our driveway. I still carry the handy little Craftsman keychain screwdriver from those keys on my current keychain!

We used to hear the L.A. County Sheriff's Department helicopters circling all the time. If they were close, and we were lucky, we could get them to shine the huge light on us if we ran down the street while they were looking for someone.

I guess what I am getting at is that I've always had to watch my back, and now I don't feel quite the same.

I can't even recall the last time I saw any bullet-proof glass.

I could go on, but I'll save some for later.

The next time you are feeling depressed over the average American's dull vocabulary, try incorporating the following British terms into your everyday life:

Instead of shopping cart or buggy, try trolley.

Instead of pantry, try larder.

Instead of master bathroom, try en suite.

 Instead of electrical outlet, try power point.

If anyone acts like they don't know what you're talking about, just roll your eyes and instead of the middle finger, give them the ol' two fingers.

I grew up in a suburb of Los Angeles.

In California, the liquor laws are pretty simple: Over 21 can buy alcohol between 6:00 a.m. and 2:00 a.m. anytime the store is open for business. Bars close at 2:00 a.m.

In California, if you are a skilled and fast driver, you can hit last call at 1:30 a.m. then skid into the closest grocery store by 2:00 a.m. for a bottle of store brand booze to take home.

Here in Texas, the rules ain't so simple.

The state governs the overall booze trade, but the individual counties and cities decide what to allow and what is so sinful that you should have to go to the next county to get it.

Some cities allow no liquor sales at all. They are known as dry.
Our county allows beer and wine sales, and is considered "damp".
Our city recently voted to sell beer and wine and is now "damp" instead of dry.
Dallas and Denton counties allow beer and wine, as well as hard liquor sales, and are considered "wet".
NO county may sell hard liquor on a holiday.
Most liquor establishments in wet counties have a "beer and wine" store next to a separate "liquor" store so that they can sell beer and wine on Sunday and on holidays while the liquor store remains closed.
If Christmas falls on Sunday, you cannot buy hard alcohol on the following Monday.

Here in Texas, you need to plan your binge ahead of time.

I asked a liquor store clerk why one can't buy hard liquor on Thanksgiving.

His theory is that you don't want family members who don't like one another showing up at family gatherings, getting drunk, and murdering one another.

Makes sense to me!