Last night I had the strangest dream

I had a dream early this morning in which there was a parade featuring a lot of big if dinosaur-ish figures in journalism - Bob Woodward, Ben Bradlee, Dan Rather, whoever's the editor of the Chicago Tribune, etc. And they were all on different - well, "floats" is the wrong word, because they weren't decorated or anything. Let's just say they were flatbeds. And as each flatbed puttered down the parade route, each journalist wasn't waving to the crowds (and, oddly, there was a big crowd) but, rather, sitting at a folding table rolling pennies.

I don't even think that's a metaphor anymore.