Hey, Elon, Are You Happy Now?

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

Here are my bonafides to write the following piece: I worked at the Salvation Army and long volunteered at a food bank. I have half a Masters in Social Work (a funny story involving being very pregnant and not being able to find a campus parking place once too often); and I grew up in Washington, DC -- a company town.

Also, I have the unique ability to foresee glaringly obvious consequences of things like mass firings. Whereas, Elon Musk, apparently does not.

Whether long-rumored or appearing suddenly like a lump in the shower, the closure of the main employer in any community results in monumental upheaval, dislocation and despair. For real human beings. It doesn’t matter if it's a Kansas manufacturer of hats and mittens or if it's the business of running the federal government -- the wanton shuttering of a critical employer is the same: utter devastation.

I'm talking people who answered phones in social security offices and those who provided assistance to the disabled and food safety workers. They got pink slips (or, you know, mass emails announcing a half-hour grace period to clear out their desks) courtesy of DOGE and Elon. This bizarrely fruitful, buffoonish billionaire (who in addition to ruthlessly destroying the lives of strangers is trying to supplant the vile Rulon Jeffs as a prodigious progenitor) sees himself as a Master of the Universe.

Soon the unemployed in the DC/Maryland/Virginia area will vie for the still available income sources. For sale signs will spread like measles in Texas. Euphemistically called a buyer's market, those lucky enough to sell their homes might still be underwater when they get out. Otherwise the banks will just take possession.

Those who don't get their paychecks directly from 'the factory' will suffer too. Babysitters for the employees' kids, counter-help at the diner where the suits and uniforms grabbed lunch, salon stylists and fitness instructors whose salaries came sideways from the big engine-- will suffer quickly, too.

Those fortunate enough to have a cushion to live off of will skate for a couple months. Others won’t. The median savings account in the U.S. holds $8,000.

Being poor is frighteningly, unbelievably hard. Crises follow financial hardships. It costs to have no money. Dominos fall, collateral fires erupt. Check out rent-to-own refrigerator rates and the outlandish prices at the laundromat (which you have to catch a bus to get to.) Or think of a young dad's inability to cover the cost of getting his car inspected which could eventually result in job loss and eviction. Inaccessible dental care is potentially deadly. Same, obviously for medical. Health care costs will skyrocket. Figuring something is better that nothing, diabetics will begin micro-dosing insulin. Other prescriptions will be halved, then quartered, then skipped altogether. Chronic illnesses will come screaming back. Hospitals will turn away those who can't pay. Which, of course, isn't great in terms of public health in general. Communicable diseases affect everyone not just those without insurance. But that's one of those unintended (yet obvious) consequences.

Family stress will skyrocket. Expensive diapers will be rationed, painful rashes will cause inconsolable crying in home after home. Pets will be surrendered, dropped at shelters or tied to fences with wrenching pleas on the collars.

Perhaps a billionaire who farms out families isn't the person to take economic tips from.