My Dad says to me as he is leaving for mass, "Be sure to leave out the back. I want to lock the front door."

Lock the front door? Really?

So I'm thinking, sure, bolting the door is never a bad idea, but, really, is it THAT much of a concern?

On Christmas Eve. In a gated community. In McKinney. Thirty miles north of Dallas.

Are we expecting a crime spree? Is that deadbolt a real deterrent to a professional house thief? Are gated communities in McKinney overrun with rogue gangs suburban street hoods prowling the neighborhood in stolen SUVs and German luxury sedans and wearing matching "Juicy" velour track suits?

And even if some Christmas cat burglar came a calling in McKinney, I kinda think that amongst all the matching micro-mansions of north Texas, there has got to be an easier mark than the house with both an 80 pound Doberman and a 120 pound Mastiff prowling around the living room. No self-respecting criminal who has seen "Turner and Hooch" would ever, EVER break into this home. The drool alone should be enough to keep him off our porch.

Just what the hell are we all so affraid of?

Personally, I think we should be afraid of the gnomes. Always peeking in windows. Hiding in the bushes. Those gnomes are up to something, I tell you. And don't tell me they aren't mobile. I've seen pictures of those little fuckers popping up all over the globe!

I digress. Ceramic garden terrorists asside, I think maybe it's time we all begin to live with a little less fear. Unload the shotgun in the closet. Unlock the door. Smile at your neighbors, even that one guy with the rusty El Camino on the lawn and the stained bathrobe.

It's Christmas Eve. The only B and E you should expect is from Santa.

But do keep an eye on those gnomes.