'Putinfall'.

"Happy Putinfall to one and all!"

"Have you put up your Putinfall decorations yet?"

"Hey, uhhh -- I was wondering -- if you wanted to go -- to the Putinfall dance with me --"

It's going to be a wonderful first Putinfall. My favorite holiday. The best season, a season of hope and renewal.

Chortle.

Yesterday I saw something I have never seen before.

I went to the Macy's at Downtown Plaza in Sacramento to get a pair of pants. Hadn't been there in a long time; I telework, and so even though my building is downtown I haven't been there in more than six months.

I parked in the underground garage and climbed the metal stairs to the surface -- a door let me out at the west end of the mall, right near the Macy's. The mall has an open-air corridor all the way through the center of it, and as I walked past it to get to the Macy's side door on the other side --

"DON'T PANIC!" I heard someone shout. From the corridor I heard other people shouting, a woman screamed -- and then suddenly from either side of the escalator in the center, I saw what the tumult was about.

Perhaps twenty to thirty (sixty?) high school kids were riding electric bikes at high speed right toward me, all of them popping wheelies, fat front tires spinning in the air as they came on at maybe twenty miles an hour --

"DON'T PANIC!" I saw one of the front riders shout again. I froze in place, trying to judge what to do next -- a kid coming right at me was having a tough time holding the wheelie, wobbling back and forth with a look of concern --

At the last second he lost it, and veered right at me. These bikes are heavy, with the big battery on the bottom below the pedals, heavy frames and super-fat tires -- if he hit me it was going to do some serious damage, so I judged the distance and jumped back to let him clear me -- right into the path of another kid roaring by right behind me. I scooted forward a millimeter and both kids shot by me so closely I felt the air pulse from both sides.

The rest weren't as close, but they were moving fast. A couple behind me shouted as they were nearly run down -- another man in front of me dodged a close call as the literal horde of electric bikes streamed by us -- and then the kids were gone, laughing harshly and whooping as they escaped down the wide concrete path that led past the Holiday Inn and toward the freeway.

I stood there for a moment, caught in the rush of fight-or-flight adrenaline -- and shock at a brand-new thing I'd never seen before. I felt like an elder witnessing the birth of a new generation, a bubbling up of tension and frustration I hadn't known existed.

The guy in front of me caught my eye, shook his head and cursed quietly. The couple behind me clutched at each other and looked around and into the mall corridor as if there might be more -- and then we all finally returned to our paths. I went into the Macy's with my heart still pounding.

I asked the sales clerk about it as I paid. "We can't stop them," she whispered, and looked around her as if they might hear her. "Sometimes they come in the store and ride around, go up and down the escalators and scare everybody." I raised my eyes with disbelief, but she nodded her head affirmatively.

As I walked back to the car I stayed light on my feet and kept my eyes on the corridor -- nothing but regular mall shoppers, though. I thought about it as I walked down to the car -- while I've been staying in my house working on my double screens with my laptop, the world had changed. I hadn't kept up.

I'm not the guy to judge these kids. I did some really stupid stuff at that age, and even after that age -- I get it. I've just never seen that particular manifestation of teen angst before -- an electric-bike high school gang terrorizing a big mall to display their feelings of anxiety and powerlessness in the face of an uncertain future.

"Don't panic!" Indeed. Thanks for that at least, kids. And good luck to us all.

This'll send a chill down your spine.

A coworker went to Texas for her husband's job interview -- "No masks anywhere!" she gushed.

Shopping malls open. Restaurants packed. "It's like 2019 there!"

Her husband's been in bed for five full days now, headaches, bodyaches, nausea, fatigue. They can't find a rapid test at the CVS.

He's double-vaxxed, no booster, his company requires it. But she's not. Mentioned Facebook as the reason. No symptoms yet --

But the two little girls, 2 and 4, went right back to their private Christian daycare when they returned.

Flying back to California she felt the heaviness of the oppressive mask mandate return --

They're taking the job. Everything's cheaper in Texas, she says.

Like life, apparently.

Democratic Underground Date.