OK, this morning I woke up to the lovely Mrs. Canecutter bringing me coffee. I had just been dreaming something about being in Costa Rica feeding kibble to monkeys, so I told her about it.
She came back with a long detailed dream that she just had, where something big had happened, and she and I were crossing the country headed west to California, on scooters. Mine was a Ruckus covered in saddlebags.
We were financing the trip by selling off our silver to MAGA types with ashtray voices who were mocking us, saying "Y'all used to look down on us for buyin REAL money, now you wish you'd bought more yourself." We still had a handful of gold two-peso coins stashed away.
We were on scooters because by the time of the dream they no longer needed registration. We were on county highways because the US ones have cameras. We were going to California because it was affordable. All the jobs had gone. Except for one Chemistry job that she was going to take.
Unrelated, she thinks some of her East European ethnic Magyar crew might have been Gypsies who changed to something else in America.