A new definition of torture from Seat 8F

As I write this I am sitting on a USAirways jet waiting on the ground for clearance to go. It's been an hour on a hot crowded plane. No clue when we will be cleared to go. Out of my window to my right is Boston Harbor. I can see about 20 boats sailing along gently, no doubt a nice cold beer in hand. Tacking back and forth with Boston's skyline in the background. There's a warm 10kt breeze. Get me off this damn plane now. I want to go sailing right now!