Bobby turned 28 on Sunday. To celebrate, we traveled to quiet downtown Brooklyn to visit the Transit Museum. There must have been 10 people there, tops, but that only made the experience that much more enjoyable.

The museum taught me two things: one, that the turnstiles they used in the beginning were literally just refashioned propellers; and two, that we've come a long way in terms of seating. People in the '30s must have either had horrible or terrific posture, depending on how much they wanted to suffer that day.

And though they may have suffered, at least they did it in style! For however old and uncomfortable a train car may be -- with its woven seating and leather straps beckoning germs and bugs -- it was proportionally more interesting in design, layout and details.

Far from the utilitarian modernism of today's trains, these were more like stagecoaches, with intricate touches like, say, a wider platform between cars -- allowing for "Fievel Goes West" style train-hopping.

All in all, 10/10 would go back. Just don't go on a tour -- it's much more fun to wander and absorb the details alone. And no, turning 28 is not a prerequisite. Unless you want it to be. Then yes, total prerequisite.