On the train from Reno*

I had this strangest sense of "deja vu". How appropriate, as I was in France when I first had this sensation.

As I write this, I'm on a train, drinking cabernet savignon through the Sacramento Valley (celebrating finishing up my PM class!), listening to a remix of "Sinnerman". It's overcast, and I'm just enjoying the countryside, sipping my wine. Last time I had this sensation, I was on a train, drinking cabernet savignon through the French countryside, listening to a remix of "Sinnerman" on my MP3 player. It was overcast, and I was just enjoying the countryside, sipping my wine. About the only difference was the wine is Californian, not French, I'm in California, not France, and likewise I'm on my way to San Francisco, not Paris, although Alfred Hitchcock did once refer to San Francisco as the American Paris. Likewise, I flirt with the cute porter in English instead of French. "Allez vous un vin rouge?" :-)

*I was on the train from Reno, although I got on at Sacramento. No, I'm not getting a divorce. :-)