Stuck, stuck and away -- cruising at 35,000 feet no longer assures peace. (Commentary).

OH, please. No more. The places on earth where you can actually find peace and quiet are already dwindling down to inches. Now this? Cell phone makers are on the verge of technology that would allow airline passengers to talk all flight long?

Where's the oven? I want to stick my head in it.

See whether this sounds familiar. You get on a plane. You settle into your seat. You open a travel magazine. You begin to drift off, thinking of the places you are about to visit, the people you are about to see, and ...

"FRANK? YEAR PULL ME THE THIRD-QUARTER SALES SHEETS. YEAH. INVENTORY SHOWS A BACK ORDER."

There is no chatter like cell phone chatter and no cell phone chatter like business cell phone chatter -- especially five inches from your face.

"TED? CHECK ITEM 117628. OH, AND INVENTORY SHOWS A BACK ORDER."

Not only are these conversations indecipherable, they are LOUD. That's because Ted or Frank is in some warehouse in Kenosha, Wis., and the businessman is, well, let's face it, on an AIRPLANE! Things are NOISY! They 're called ENGINES! And those bothersome things next to you?

They're called PASSENGERS!

Now, I don't begrudge businesspeople their business. You gotta make a living, right? But a plane is not an office. You are close enough to count a person's pores. Already, during boarding, the cabins have become a giant phone booth. It's like a train station in Europe, with all the backpackers calling home. But at least the flight attendants eventually say, "Ladies and gentlemen, the doors have been closed. All portable electronic devices must now be shut off."

Which doesn't mean anyone stops talking. Most business folk simply scrunch up like a schoolkid hiding a lollipop, hoping the teacher won't see them. At least they lower their voices.

Hey, it beats the inventory update.

And eventually, they do hang up. They have to. The phone won't work. Finally, finally -- after a taxi ride where the driver blasts his radio, after a terminal where CNN blares on TV screens, after bathrooms where Muzak is piped in over the sink -- finally, you can actually hear the soothing quiet of four jet engines beneath your wings.

Can you imagine, however, if cell phones work the whole trip long? And people can receive calls, too, so you'll hear those annoying rings that owners think are so cute from takeoff to landing? As if the middle seat wasn't torture enough.

And of course, since cell phone service is so unreliable, there'll be no end to this:

And when the businesspeople finally nod off -- Palm Pilots and spreadsheets in hand -- then, at long last, you get to hear this:

"RITA? GUESS WHERE I'M CALLING FROM?"

There ought to be a law. I confess to using cell phones on planes. But I am blissfully relieved when they shut the door, because I have an excuse to be out of touch. Like so much technology, cell phones were invented to make lives easier, and only make them busier. That closed door used to be my friend. Soon, it, too, will join the Dark Side. I am traveling, I am flying. I am searching the world for quiet. Inventory shows a back order.

Mitch Albom is the author of the bestseller "Tuesdays With Morrie."