I remember the pumping sound our old water pump made while pumping water from the well house.
I remember the crackling and popping sound certain wood made in the old stone fireplace in the living room.
I remember the steady clacking on the wheels of the train I would take to Utica to visit my Dad. The noise the steam whistle made as we approached each small station on the way.
At a difficult time in my life, I remember the strange noises my grandpa would make when he came home drunk. It was very scary at the time but as time went on, he stopped drinking and turned into one sweet guy. I love you grandpa. RIP
I remember the frogs singing in harmony when we stayed at camp at Plymouth Reservoir. The bass frogs would start and then the tenors chimed in and later the peepers started their two cent worth. The hoot, hoot of the old owl always added to the fiasco. I would lie there and try to identify each sound.
I remember the sound when you opened a glass bottle of soda on the openers that screwed to the wall. Pop, sizz and a big gulp. I wonder how many people today know what a church key is?
I remember the sound of kicking the can made under the street lights on Gold St. We boys would play this game many a night until our moms would call us in.
I remember the moans and groans in the movies us kids made when the cowboy hero kissed his gal. We did not want to see that mushy stuff. After all, he was our champion along with his horse. I remember the giggling us boys made at the Abbott and Costello movies or Ma and Pa Kettle.