When you grow up near the Boeing factory...

Yesterday Mark was quizzing me on the difference between and Boeing 737 and a 787.  He wanted to know all about them.  I had no idea.

Because I didn't grow up here.

When Adam's sister came from Atlanta last month to visit (and for our big party).  Adam asked her about her flight.  She mentioned it was nonstop.  He said, "757?"

"No," she said, "737-800."

Apparently, when you grow up with your dad working at Boeing, when you can drive by and get a glimpse inside the factory when the gigantic doors are open, when you see planes sitting ready to be painted, when you see planes partially painted, then fully painted, when you see a lot of planes in the air, off to be sold to airlines...it all accumulates to some knowledge of airplanes.  Particularly Boeing airplanes.

Just like I know the differences between a hackamore, snafflebit and spade bit (useful knowledge in the Seattle suburbs), Adam and his siblings know about planes.

Before my grandmother's funeral, late one night, especially considering that my parents are currently living in the Central time zone, my dad called me.

"I'm feeling sorry for myself," he said.  "We're trying to get tickets online and your mom is too tired and I'm too stupid."

The flight times were less than convenient and the nearest airport is hours from where they are in Nauvoo, IL.

"This is why it is called a flyover state," my dad lamented.  I told him to go to bed and Adam and I would figure it out.

Because remember Adam?  And planes?

We found them some flights.  I was conscious of the flight times and the cost, Adam looked at the planes and calculated leg room for my dad.

He's a handy guy to have around, that Adam.

We called and woke up my parents to tell them of our findings--I felt bad waking them, but we'd chosen a city for them to fly out of that we hadn't talked about and I wanted to make sure it was OK.  Adam insisted I make sure they know the types of planes/layovers/etc.  It needed to factor into the decision.

And he was right.  He got my parents on direct flights with optimal legroom.  He even got them in the exit aisles.

It pays to know a guy that knows airplanes.

I hope that knowledge gets him home to me today on a comfortable seat.