Empty office ambience — I see this episode as like: you're in your crowded workspace and you want everyone to disappear.

Look, work isn't usually ever great — but being the first one to the Slack channels or the Powerpoint decks feel a little freeing when no one is looking over your ****** shoulders.

Or I think you could use this ambience while working from home; to get that cacophony of electric hums you might be missing. Oh, you could be a fan of that MAX Severance show (or HBO, whatever).

I guess you could sleep to office ambience... Just don't drag a cot into your workplace like a ****** lunatic.

Pink noise/ rain ambience — Look, this episode has nothing to do with creator of the Batdance. And yes I was hoping for an unearned second glance just by typing out “purple” and “rain” in a title bar.

Gawd I do love the Batman album (changes subject) and how it captures the expensive, unhinged feel of Gotham City. The best comic book movie soundtrack. The I’m Breathless “soundtrack” comes close — but if it’s a bunch of inspired by, not in the movie it is not a soundtrack. (Yet also “Vogue” is on the album). 

Whatever. This week’s episode is pink noise and rain which I hope will be a relaxing combination of sounds that pair well with readinga long article about the Batman album or the dishes.

Star Wars/ Empire Strikes Back Ambience. This episode covers a regular day of work on a Star Destroyer. I have to imagine there were some less exciting days for the denizens of the futuristic space Harry Potter franchise, Star Wars. 

Empire screws had to dismount from their bunks and get to their boring jobs and hope not to piss off Vader or any other weird space wizards.

We’re back at the movies this week for Empire Strikes Back (1980, based on scenes like these). This episode is a flight before Empire figures out the Rebel Alliance are hiding on Hoth.

Your tauntaun will freeze before you reach the first marker.

THEN I'LL SEE YOU IN HELL!

Snowfall from interior of car. It wasn't even a long storm... And it was three days ago... but they closed school anyway.

Writing/ classroom ambience. How do I say, "Enjoy 8 hours of testing ambience?" The thought of testing conjures up traumas of past educational failures. And I'm not talking about having the test slapped on the desktop before me with "F" scratched out in red marker.

I'm talking "permanent record" here. My invisible collection of abject failures that I was led to believe followed me everywhere. I imagined a shadow network that handed off my permanent record wherever I went. There would be a back room with a filing cabinet waiting to temporarily house it. Where it waited for me to screw up.

I still feel its presence today. There may be some backroom in my house my family hasn't warned me of. Perhaps the neighbors are some kind of "Adjustment Bureau" for my CATs, SATs, and ACTs.

So, yeah, no — this ambience isn't about a make or break test. Let's imagine we're in class, and everyone else is studious because they're so smug about going somewhere in this world. And we are at the back of the class drawing Too Much Coffee Man or writing an amazing short story while everyone is being ambitious. 

And for me, it wasn't an amazing short story. It was a **** short story that was only short because I couldn't figure out how to get my awesome Mack Bolan-esque character out from the clutches of the cartel's trap deep in a jungle. (Which was totally stolen from Clear and Present Danger).

"There's nowhere left to run, Blaze Tower," said the short man grasping a half-smoldered cigar. This was Blaze Tower's nemesis, a man everyone called Martillo (to be played by Miguel Sandoval in the inevitable movie). Martillo had been responsible for the death of Blaze's family; they had been bystanders in a park. A picnic turned to panic by errant crossfire and totally ripped off from Frank Castle's origin. (RIP my media diet in the 90s… I heard my parents regularly remark, "At least he's reading something.”)

Bluh—where were we? Oh yes... relaxing at the back of the class.

Original photo by Pixabay

Snow and snow maintenance trucks ambience — This is the January 5,6 storm over Northern Virginia. Listen to the gut-punch storm that forced us to spend another week with our children. 

Yes, I know that sounds terrible, but we had already been back to work, and these little free-loaders were "bored." Never mind, they were somehow ****** bored the day after Santa Claus' capitalistic ride of philanthropy. 

And we had made it to the end. The children were going back to school in two days. 

And then the universe dumped an unimpressive amount of snow on us. I'm not sure you could impress a South Carolinian with 〜seven inches of snow. 

Look — obviously, I understand closing school Monday. I even got closing on Tuesday; we had freezing temperatures, and there were still ice patches. Wednesday, OK; take Wednesday too, for safety's sake, never mind that the roads were mostly clear. The kids were all figuring out new daredevil **** to do in the snow. I saw one kid jump off a roof.

I get it, school administrators. A snow day is an unexpected break from our rotten-*** children. But Thursday felt like payback for the last ten years of scant snow closures.

Mild fan ambience—Okay, so over the holidays, we escaped our beloved children. I picked up a night at my wife's favorite ⁠local B&B⁠, which put us far enough away from the bickering stemming from being home for ****** ever from school.

They were supposed to return to school tomorrow, but with a giant ****** snowstorm coming, they will probably be home for another week.

*Sleet and Ice ambience—Nature tossed an early morning meatball the day before Christmas. A steady fall of ice covered everything in a faux-white (the New England in me wouldn't grant this "White Christmas" status even if my kids were). 

And yet, my holiday mind flipped through the possibilities: "Am I dreaming of a white Christmas podcast?" My prior falling ice episode was well received; let's do it again.

But how? The Candy Canes were already moved to clearance aisles with the nearly-expired vitamins and other weird grocery **** like Pistachio butter or pickled cockles.

And not even the old-fashioned Candy Canes; it was the sale on Starburst or Skittle canes.

Any holiday podcast released on the doorstep of Christmas would feel stale.

After all, this is the time of year when I start embracing the bleakness of winter without twinkling lights. The Christmas Crunch cereal and tree-shaped Reese's are 75% off. And somehow, large sections in department stores are dedicated to Valentine's Day. 

This brief period of holiday hangover where every day feels like a Sunday, and most folks on social media are posting gym or business pics about "getting it" in the new year. As we stack all of our ab and financial aspirations onto a new calendar. Even though we did that last year.

Look, I didn't want another Holiday episode, not after the Greyhound Bus episode sent us on a highway of mirth and merriment to Mom and the rest of our ****** family members. There was no way to fit in another elf-ish episode or holiday box fan. 

Not while deductibles reset and the taxman looms. So… Happy New Year; enjoy some non-festive falling ice.

(I hope y'all had/ are having a lovely holiday).

Intercity bus/ highway ambience—A Christmas Eve decades ago, I found myself braving the Port Authority in Midtown, waiting for a Greyhound to Albany. While loading, I walked fast enough to stay ahead of the folks who might be at the overbooked point. Just that Thanksgiving, I had been dawdling at the end of the line and wound up with a "Sorry, pal. It looks like you're waiting for the next bus." 

That Greyhound Christmas Eve ride was years before cell phones had texting, apps, or anything resembling fun programmed into them. If you wanted to catch up on gossip or news, you had to hit the magazine stand before climbing aboard. If you were broke you were left with no shield against another passenger trying to strike up a conversation.

And I was broke, so I didn't want to be near the front of the bus, where the assertive clamored for seats near the driver. Assertive people like to talk. They want to tell you about famous nephews or how they know some obscure ass state representatives and… I don't care, man.

I want to be in the back where no one wants to be. No one is happy because you're closer to the toilet than the driver. At best, it smells like urinal cake. No one wants to open their mouths so much when it smells like urinal cake.

Back of the bus was also ideal because I had jammed a 40 ounce down my pants. I wasn't sure if someone would check my carry-on for alcohol, so I just shoved my Steel Reserve down my oversized Wu-Wear jeans. 

The guy beside me laughed while I pulled it out, and I cycled through some nervous ticks. Would he snitch? Did I open myself up to obligatory gabbing?  

He raised his hand, reached into his pocket, pulled out a nip of Jack Daniels, and raised it in the air… "Cheers." 

Episode image from Pixabay

The Jingle Bell box fan is back to make your holidays ****** jolly! This week’s episode is white noise but festive. It’ll make that Christmas dinner prep or tuning out the in-laws merry without a note from Mariah.

I have to come clean about something. I regularly use an extremely inexpensive aftershave balm that smells horrible. It smells like what a kid would probably think a man would smell like—the Worcestershire sauce of aftershaves. 

The inexpensive balm feels great splashed on shaved skin, but I don't know if it's worth smelling like this in public.