The Oil Train and other sounds of happiness

Big Coast Guard or other military helicopters patrolling the coastline at the beach, first coming at you from one end, then fading away down the other. Some of the Coast Guard choppers have jet turbines, I think, and they sound extra-cool.

 

The waterfall at the camp where I spent most of my youth.

The waves hitting the north shore of Long Island.

 

Also, I always got juiced watching and listening to the big Goss presses rumble and roar at midnight. Good times.

 

This will sound weird, but I'm sure I'm not the only one who appreciated the loud sound of a running press when you really had to blow out a big fart. Just go back in the pressroom and let 'er rip. No one ever heard a thing.

 

I don’t cover basketball anymore, but I miss the ambient sounds of a game going on while I’m tapping away at a keyboard working on a story about a different team. The squeak of shoes, the pep band, the snippet of conversations on press row, the general bustle. There was something very zen about it.

 

Golly. Little wonder you vote Republican.

 

My grandparent's house was about 75 yards from the Pennsylvania RR tracks. It was neat to hear the trains go by at night.

The fire department blew a 6 p.m. whistle every night in my hometown.

In college, the bells in Boatwright tower signaling the end and beginning of classes.

The scrunching sound when you walked on about four inches of fresh lake-effect snow every morning on the way to school.

The sound of bats (either wood or metal) making contact during BP in an empty stadium.

 

I lived for a time in an old river town in Northern Kentucky, half a block down from an old church that still rang its bells on the hour. Loved everything about that.

 

Oooh, that’s a good one.

 

All of these are sighted daily going in and out of Camp Lejeune.

 

The sound of skates on ice at the end of each NHL.com webcast.