Addison, TX and why it is absurd

I live in a tiny, northern bump of Dallas proper wedged between two suburbs: Richardson and Addison. Richardson is a typical Dallas suburb. Lots of families, houses, schools, churches, and a smattering of office buildings. Addison is a different breed. I have lived about one block from Addison for nearly a year now, and I have yet to see a church, a school, a non-huge house, or a family. I have seen lots of restaurants, bars, fancy condos, ostentatious corporate headquarters, and yuppies though. It is a land without God, educational entities, or people outside of Nielsen's favorite age demographic.

To be fair: This is what Addison wants to be. It's massively convenient. They have about 200 restaurants crammed into 4.3 square miles, yet they still have a beautiful park with trees and fountains and promenades and bizarre massive pseudo-artistic structures. Nestled between a corporate airport, office buildings, and one of those retail-residential-restaurant complexes of which Dallas is so fond. (See Addison Circle, Mockingbird Station, and the West Village for a few examples.) Until I realized the disturbing lack of children, schools, and churches in Addison I was completely sold. You can almost walk around, and once they install the DART rail as early as 2030 (the "ambitious" date given in a recent Dallas Morning News article) it will allow people to car-lessly commute. Not that many people will, it being Dallas, but that's another post altogether.

All of this is a bit strange for a city, but the final straw is the Addison Beverage Center (ABC). Nestled just past the southern city limit of Addison is a couple of run-down liquor stores. There is a tiny sign driven into the street median confirming that you have indeed reached the Addison Beverage Center. At the end of the block, just past these fine establishments, is a stuffy brick and gold letter sign informing you that you have entered the Town of Addison. (I can't reproduce the small caps used, but trust me, it is plenty imposing.) Why they didn't just bother to put down train tracks to indicate that you are indeed on the wrong or right side of said tracks is beyond me. According to the website, the ABC has many retailers, many with specialized stocks, but I saw the dependable Hasty Beverages and Goody Goody Liquor, the K-Marts of alcohol.

Apart from the distinct line between the gilded Addison and the apparently barely tolerated ABC is the hypocrisy of the whole system. I'm sure Addison has town fathers (it doesn't seem like a place with town mothers) who declare that the ABC is there simply for the convenience of shopping within a compact geographic area. Yet the run down nature, the designation with signs, the clear demarcation between Addison and the ABC is too much to not be planned.

I don't blame Addison for not wanting liquor stores being "sin-mongering" eyesores scattered throughout a city that is a poster child for (sub)urban planning. Yet you can go get plastered at any one of those 172 restaurants that Addison so proudly advertises. I'm not a big drinker; I've had about 5 drinks in the past 6 months. I don't particularly care that the city is "dry." What does bother me is the absurdity of the situation. Why the false appearance of uprightness? Why the other-side-of-the-tracks mentality? Why did I feel like I was crossing the border to buy drugs in Tijuana when I picked up a host gift for a friend's party?