Elon Musk decided that California is no longer big enough for his ambitions and with a flick of his diamond-encrusted spurs, has announced that SpaceX, Tesla, and X (formerly Twitter) will all be making the grand trek to Texas. Because if you’re worth $254 billion, why not upgrade your sandbox?
IMAGINE, IF YOU WILL, the sight of Elon Musk — tech mogul, space explorer, and Twitter enthusiast — striding into Texas with the confidence of a man who’s just bought himself a new planet.
The scene could be straight out of a comedy movie, with Musk’s convoy of Teslas gliding past the vast Texas plains, his cyber cattle prancing alongside, and his solar-powered, bulletproof cowboy hat gleaming in the sun.
Elon Musk, the man who gave us reusable rockets, electric cars that park themselves, and tweets that can tank the stock market, decided that California was no longer big enough for his ambitions.
With a flick of his diamond-encrusted spurs, he announced that SpaceX, Tesla, and X (formerly Twitter) would all be making the grand trek to Texas. Because if you’re worth $254 billion, why not upgrade your sandbox?
As Musk’s motorcade crossed the state line, he must have envisioned a warm, Texan welcome — a cowboy hat doffed in his honor, a golden lasso thrown at his feet, and a plate of barbecue as big as a SpaceX booster. But Texas, as it turns out, isn’t easily impressed.
The Lone Star State has seen oil barons and cattle kings come and go. It takes more than a few electric cars and a Twitter takeover to make the locals tip their hats.
First, there’s the matter of fitting in with Texas politics. In California, Musk was like a tech demigod— able to charm politicians with promises of green energy and Mars colonization. Texas, however, is a different beast. Here, the oilmen are gruff, the cowboys are tough, and the politics are as fiery as a summer barbecue. Musk, with his SpaceX suits and cyber-truck bravado, might find himself in a rodeo he didn’t quite expect.
Picture the scene: Musk walking into a Texas state legislature meeting, his entourage in tow, expecting to be hailed as the new king of the prairies. Instead, he’s met with steely gazes and stiff nods.
“We don’t care much for electric horseless carriages,” one cowboy-politician might say, tipping his hat ever so slightly.
“Can your rockets drill for oil?” Another might ask, eyes narrowing under a ten-gallon Stetson.
Then there’s the matter of social circles. In Silicon Valley, Musk is a celebrity among celebrities — a visionary whose ideas about tunneling under cities and creating brain-computer interfaces are met with nods of approval and cocktails of admiration. In Texas, however, the old money flows like oil, and the parties are a bit more… grounded.
At a high-society gala in Houston, Musk might try to mingle, offering anecdotes about space travel and AI, only to be met with polite but puzzled smiles.
“Why don’t you tell us about your cattle, Mr. Musk?” a society matron might ask, her pearls glinting in the chandelier light. “Or your oil fields?” another might add, swirling a glass of whiskey. Musk’s tales of interplanetary travel might land like a lead balloon among those who measure wealth by acres and barrels, not tweets and shares.
And what of the famed Texas hospitality? Musk, in his techno-optimist glory, might expect to find it in abundance.
Yet, as he drives his Tesla into the heart of a ranching community, the sight of electric cars zipping past pickup trucks could elicit more raised eyebrows than warm welcomes. Imagine the local mechanic scratching his head at a Model S, mumbling something about “missing the good ol’ combustion engine.”
Musk’s attempts to assimilate could be even more comedic. Picture him at a rodeo, his Tesla parked among a sea of trucks, the crowd watching as he tries to rope a calf using a drone.
Or at a barbecue, where his requests for plant-based burgers are met with guffaws and plates piled high with brisket. His attempts to fit in might be earnest, but Texans have a way of sniffing out authenticity — or the lack thereof.
In his quest to become a Texan tycoon, Musk might also need to navigate the state’s unique brand of snooty wealth. Here, ranchers and oil magnates look at the world through a lens of legacy and land, not just liquid assets.
Musk’s billions might buy him a seat at the table, but respect is earned, not bought. The old-timers at the local country club might regard him with the same skepticism they would an out-of-state cattle rustler—fascinating, but not yet one of their own.
Despite these challenges, there’s no doubt Musk will find a way to make his mark on Texas. He’s a man of boundless energy and unbridled ambition, after all.
Perhaps he’ll build a SpaceX launchpad in the middle of a cattle ranch, or convert a defunct oil rig into a floating Tesla showroom. Maybe he’ll even tweet his way into the hearts of Texans, one meme at a time.
In the end, Elon Musk’s move to Texas is a grand experiment — one that blends the futuristic dreams of a tech mogul with the storied traditions of a state that prides itself on its independence and grit. It’s a collision of worlds, a comedy of contrasts, and a story that’s sure to unfold with all the drama and humor of a Hollywood blockbuster.
So, saddle up and stay tuned, folks. Because in the great Texas rodeo of wealth, power, and politics, Elon Musk is about to put on one heck of a show.
And knowing him, it’ll be a spectacle worth every billion.
TONY CASTRO, the former award-winning Los Angeles columnist and author, is a writer-at-large and the national political writer for LAMonthly. org. He can be reached at tony@tonycastro.com.
.
