Actually...

...forget the sadness of the post re: unemployed person in The Atlantic. I was just walking home from the coffee shop where I write and saw an overweight hispanic lady sleeping in her car. I sometimes see people like this in my neighborhood. Basically, they are homeless folks in cars. A smidge above the social stratum of crazy folks who are on the streets. They sleep in my neighborhood because it is a peaceful place where there is lots of parking and the cops won't bug them.

I wonder what people like them would think about the piece in the Atlantic? Why are we, as a society, supposed to feel awful about a journalist who worked for 25 years, got laid off, and can't find another job? The only difference between he and the homeless person sleeping in their car is that he had a whole shitpile of more opportunities and talent. The person sleeping in the car probably didn't even dream of going to college - and their best hopes lie in the possibility of getting stable work in a restaurant or house cleaning or their husband can find stable work in contracting. I am making all sorts of assumptions here, obviously, but I live in LA and have some interaction with the lower-middle class hispanics. To the person sleeping in the car, the journalist's life must look glamorous, the way I might view the life of a former professional athlete or movie star.

We don't feel sorry for the pro athlete whose career fell short or the actor who didn't live up to potential. What obligation do we have - as a society - to make sure upper middle class people get to stay upper middle class. I'm not sure any. Sad as it is to say.