The train conductor on the Pacific Surfliner takes my ticket and asks me if I’d like a glass of Chardonnay or Cabernet.
I'm sinking into my gigantic seat, like Chairry on Pee-Wee's Playhouse, and I can’t quite catch what the conductor said, because Anthony, the Club Car barman, is on the PA system, singing one of his original compositions: “It’s a Beautiful Saturday for a Train Ride.”
“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” I say, wondering if this journey could pleasantly escalate to a Karaoke marathon.

I am soaking wet from the Santa Barbara, California seashore and couldn't be happier. Yes, I am wet on the train.
You see, we had a half-hour layover at the Santa Barbara station, and I took advantage of its two-block proximity to the beach to take a dip in the beach in my underwear.
Welcome to Amtrak…