Borepatch reminds me of the good ol' days, when I used to go out to Hartsfield to watch the planes taxi around from a comfy, air-conditioned perch in Concourse E.
And he reminds me of the bad new days, when the only way flying could be more degrading is if they actually shackled you to a U.S. Marshal, instead of just treating you as though you were shackled to one.
I'll bet shipping myself as "Live Caged Monkey! Handle With Care!" via a FedEx cargo jet would be a somewhat more pleasant and streamlined travel experience.