Relaxing Airport Sounds for Sleeping (10 Hours) | Calm Terminal Atmosphere Drift

This week we are waiting on a flight in some Mid-Major airport. A nice liminal space to relax or sleep with. 10 hours of airport sounds including muffled announcements, large room air-conditioning, timely takeoffs, airport denizens, and drift.

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We’re waiting for a late-night flight to somewhere awesome, tucked into a dark corner with a view of the runway fading into the milky darkness beyond. Vehicle lights twinkle. The runway blazes with multicolored bulbs. And my favorite person, the waving double-flashlight dude (I always wondered if these folks ever pretended to be Jedis). Planes speed down the runway in the distance, like racing Christmas trees.

In the 90s I had the perfect spot at Atlanta airport near my favorite eatery, Gyro Wrap (you fostered my love of the gyro, thank you Gyro Wrap). I loved watching the nighttime choreography of massive flying machines and service vehicles while awaiting that late connection to Columbia, SC, and back to my military school bunk by midnight.

One trip nearly ended with me joining the Army by accident. A very stern-looking dude from the U.S. Army (reception cadre) double timed over to me as I headed for the Taxi stand of the Columbia Airport. “No gum. The hell are you chewing gum for? Take those headphones off when I’m speaking to you.”

I’m like, “Uhm.”

He starts laying into my posture. I wasn’t standing straight. Gum out right now. Hand outstretched to a line of people in the distance. “Eyes straight. Let’s go.” And I see a line of dudes rigid with fear. “You made all of us late—“

I jumped in, “sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t join the Army. I’m in military school. I have to catch a cab.”

His eyes widened at my interruption, then his expression softened into something much friendlier—even jocular. “Ya—! Ooooh… I was about to put you on the bus.”

He asked how long I had been in military school and I was like, “Six years.”

“Six years? Do they not teach posture? Chest up, shoulders back…” And he clapped me on the back, "See you in a few months."

I wanted to do add a "sorry but I will be attending another military school in a few months." But he was back to his charges telling them the wait would continue.

Speaking of airport nostalgia, this week’s episode cover is a homage to the stellar Catch Me If You Can opening credits. Which is itself a nostalgic, Saul Bass–ish 1960s film opening. I’ve never seen Catch Me If You Can, but the credit sequence was formative in inspiring where I wanted to take my career. I should leave out that my mantra became “I will only work on documentaries or major motion picture credit sequences” (and whatever job I could get at MTV, I’ll mop the TRL studios).

The Catch Me If You Can credit sequence by Kuntzel + Deygas is unassailable. And middling designers (such as myself) will make any excuse to play with others’ wonderful work and call it homage. (See my recent Matrix episode for more).

I mean, it is self-gratification. Can I say that? And leave aside the vulgar common understanding—it would be like my buying a home-run baseball on eBay. Some other person caught the ball, or ripped it from a child’s hands, put it in a box, slapped on some stamps, and shipped it across multiple states. Now I’m holding up that baseball as if I accomplished something.

Gyro Wrap... the only reason to visit the Atlanta

Airport.