Brooks: Taking down Tesla

Every weekend, the protest grows.

Seven weeks ago, there were a few dozen people with signs shivering outside the Tesla dealership in Golden Valley. The next week, a few more. Then a few more. Then a few hundred more.

Saturday was designated a "Global Day of Action" — with four protests planned in the Twin Cities, hundreds planned around the globe —aimed at one of the richest assets of the richest man on Earth.

That asset is worth considerably less, now that Tesla CEO Elon Musk devotes the bulk of his time to dismantling federal government services and meddling in a judicial election in Wisconsin, where he was expected to show up Sunday.

Musk has spent at least $12 million in an effort to replace a retiring Wisconsin Supreme Court justice with one more to his liking. That tally does not include the $2 million he planned to pay two voters who signed his online petition against "activist judges."

In Golden Valley, Sandra Rhude painted a protest sign almost big enough for Musk to see from the state line. She and a group of friends, mostly older women, have staged protests on bridge overpasses, holding up signs painted on old sheets and curtains. Like this one: a pouty-lipped caricature, with a call to DEPORT ELON.

"I don't want to sit back and read the news and say 'Oh my gosh, this is all so bad,'" said Rhude, a mother of seven. "Let's do something. We've got to do something."

Protesters and signs lined the intersection Saturday in front of the Golden Valley Tesla showroom and stretched far down the road. Up the hill, the Room & Board outlet store guaranteed a steady flow of passing drivers, most of them honking in support.

Occasionally, a Tesla Cybertruck cruised into the dealership, possibly in response to the nationwide recall, accompanied by giggles from the onlookers.

"I feel bad for them," said B.J. Alexander, holding up her sign for a passing Tesla driver, showing an image of Musk giving his one-armed salute.

Tesla drivers who bought their cars years ago now face the prospect of either trading in for another vehicle or tooling around town in a car that screams "Elon Musk."

"It's not about you — or your car," Alexander's sign read. "It's him."

This was her first protest, and she was amazed by the size of the crowd and the mix of people who turned out — from retirees to college kids and moms pushing strollers.

"It's really easy to feel isolated," she said. "When you come out here, you see the range of people who share your feelings."

The feeling the crowd shares is that there's an un-elected billionaire running— or at least running around — this country, throwing Nazi-style salutes as he throws civil servants out of work.

Tesla stock and Tesla sales may reflect how the majority of the country seems to feel about that. The richest man on Earth is $121 billion poorer than he was during the Biden administration.

Saturday's Tesla protest was the fourth for retired nurses Lisa Larson and Norma Ostlie. They fear for the patients they've devoted their careers to — frail, housebound and dependent on programs like Medicaid, which is facing a potential $880 billion federal budget cut.

"My husband and I both are on Social Security and Medicare," Larson said. "We have an adult son who relies on Medicaid, and we're terrified about the cuts that are happening. How did Elon, this unelected billionaire, do this? It's unimaginable, what he's done in such a short time."

Up and down the protest line, music blasted, signs waved and passing drivers honked in solidarity.

Ostlie looked around at the hundreds who had come together on a raw Minnesota morning to yell at a billionaire.

This," she said, "is saving my sanity."