Yes, Virginia, there was a Pony Express.

It lives on to this day, as it lived in years past. It flourishes in small boys' hearts as they read under the bedsheets with a flashlight. It lives in the minds of young girls still using training wheels as they tear down the Elm Street hill to deliver the mail under a hail of Comanche arrows. It lives in the dreams and memories of middle managers stifling under the weight of neckties and carbon copies, and in the faint fancies of bored suburban housewives who hear the pounding of hooves and the slapping of leather in a far-away dream as they vacuum their wall-to-wall carpets. It carries these dreams as surely and as bravely as the COC&PPEC once carried postcards. In these hearts, and minds, and aspirations, I can assure you that the Pony Express rides on.