I think the mall is such a uniquely American phenomenon. As you write about, it's been the community center for so many normal people in the past and those times are changing. In the homogeneous country I'm from, that place used to be the church, now it's probably the pub. In the US, while there are many churches, they don't seem to be the place where people meet across communities - that was the mall.
What we have in common is that whether it's the US, or where I'm from, these communities are dividing and moving online and it's worrying. Having the liberal elite come in an sneer doesn't help, in fact it's a symptom of the issue. The liberal elite (which I guess I'm a part of) are the ones least affected by this fraction and division and the ones most easily able to pay their way out.
Thanks for writing.
The cultural/economic elite are, like you say, cushioned somewhat from this. For example, a membership to "The Wing" in NYC or other expensive social clubs provides that physical space based in a shared identity. In my town, an area that was once a thriving arts district with inexpensive warehouse spaces for galleries, co-ops, etc. has been replaced with numerous luxury hotels and housing/businesses that cater to well-off students.
I'm left wondering how we can create popular alternatives that provide the basis for social cohesion. Re: the mall, if people can't at least have a place to bump into each other in line or sit at the food court together, I worry we'll continue along a bad path. I work in parks and recreation so I gravitate to public parks as a solution. They're places where it's normal to strike up a conversation with a stranger, there's no pressure to spend money and so on. There's been a conflict here over a restaurant and apartment/business complex being built into our main downtown park, drawing criticism that the park is effectively being privatized.
Obviously I'm not a social scientist, these are things I'm exploring from my perspective while watching a city change over the years. But COVID especially has me thinking about how we will rebuild public life and avoid an existence where we are connected primarily by social media and understanding life through the superficial aesthetic/media categorizations it fosters.
That kind of mix of nostalgia and disdain is the essence of Sedaris, i think... A cloying love for the past with a solid recognition and disdain for the terrible parts of it. Mid-century modernism accompanied with a side of unrelenting homophobia. The familiar atmosphere of home, suffused with the cigarette smoke that will eventually, slowly, painfully kill your mother.
Like most comedy, there's a question of punching up vs punching down. Punching up is funny: sticking it to the homophobes is great. But punching down is mean and contemptible... So it all comes down to whether you, in the audience, see Sedaris as a survivor/escapee of suburbia, or as some New York literati come to talk about how much your mall sucks.
"Punching up" vs "punching down" is this weird trope that materialized in the past couple years as a way to argue "making fun of MY preferred groups is not allowed." But there are many successful professional comedians who don't agree with it, and "punching down" on the rubes is in fact a time honored genre of comedy...