Flying Out of Boston

Flying from Boston to Palookaville yesterday:

• Is it just me or is the flight from Boston a more high-toned class of readership? Lots of books; I didn't see a single Danielle Steele. Lady next to me had global tastes. She started out with How Soccer Explains the World, and topped it off with The Ornament of the World. Her companion seemed to be reading something about colloids.
  
  [Nosy? You betcha. If I come to visit at your house, I will inventory the bookcases.]

• Is it just me, or do cross-country flight attendants, relieved of the obligation to serve meals, have more time on their hands? A lot of gabbing back in the galley. One of them seemed to be cramming for an exam--but hey, this is the Boston flight. Perhaps a staffing rule predicated on the assumption tht they will be serving meals, when in factc they do so no longer? Or a minimum-crew safety requirement?

• Overheard:
  
  Momma: You didn't think I could walk downstairs and get the suitcase while we were flying, did you?
  Kid: [Long pause.] We could ask the driver!
  Momma (juggling a baby): No, I don't think that's possible.
  Kid (squirming to get out of his seat) I know, I could ask the driver!
  [Apparently the driver said "no."]