Since we seem to have segue'd nicely from rolling stock to religion, this might be an apposite place to tell of my son's first experience in a Synagogue:

I carried the three-year old into the Temple during a High Holy Day service. The place was packed. The Rabbi, and all attendant personnel were wearing white robes, with tall mitres, and the scene was very impressive.

In a stage whisper that was heard by the entire congregation, my awed offspring asked me

"Dad, which one is God?"