You can still see one of the discounting "kings" in Southern California promoting mattresses on TV. He flips his toupee and beams, "Our secret is low overhead!"

In days gone by, the monarchs of merchandising used to boast that they "Cut out the middlemen; you're dealing factory-direct!"

Costco and other chains have silenced some of these exuberant price cutters that once dominated their local markets.

But the message about eliminating middlemen still resonates through the glass and steel canyons and Main streets where full-service, mom-and-pop stores once stood. If anything, the idea of cutting costs to the bone has done more than bring prices down, it has squeezed the pocketbooks of the very middle-class that used to shop and work in such venues.

The middle class in America, if you haven't noticed, is under siege. Its members used to manufacture things. They also pushed paper as clerks, while middle managers prodded personnel to higher levels of performance.

Now, "middle" anything seems hopelessly redundant, and even suspect

Librarians used to be archetypes of middling. They mediated the research function for countless millions of students, businesspeople, and others. Now, their jobs are threatened by search engines such as Google, which also tried to make libraries redundant by copying books and putting their contents online, a project that has come under recent judicial scrutiny.

Does anyone have a personal secretary, anymore, I mean any REAL person?

Sure, Madonna and peers probably retain folks to do their shopping and dog walking, but do small businesses still salary folks to answer phones, to take dictation, and to make establishments look and sound "professional?"

Peter Drucker used to point out that the classical professional firm consisted of two partners and a clerk. Today, the partners ARE clerks, doing data entry, numbers crunching, and most other computer related activities.

When I was very small, there were elevator operators in upscale department stores and hotels. They would greet patrons and guide their riders to the right floors, opening elegant, gilded grates with a flourish, at journey's end.

I still remember the names of two elevator conductors: Mr. Edwards and Mr. Hicks.

A few years ago an interesting book came out titled, BOWLING ALONE. It chronicled the demise of social bonding, of doing things together, as families, co-workers, neighbors, and acquaintances.

I wonder if the title, WORKING ALONE, will follow, given how many once full-time employed people are serving as part-timers, involuntary consultants, independent contractors, and off-site telecommuters.

Could this dislocation be the result of "Low, low prices"?

Joseph Schumpeter, the Austrian economist, implied that in the storm clouds of a gloomy economy there is a silver lining: "Creative destruction" he called it. Buggy whip manufacturers, secretaries, and elevator operators may get pink slips, but in their places spring forth tire makers, telecom and computer jobs.

Something is lost, but something is gained.

When exactly, does destructive-destruction end and creative-destruction begin? And once we have achieved rock-bottom prices, can we work on making jobs and incomes rise?