Whistling...

I received an email today from one close to my heart who reminded me of her initial image of me coming down a set of escalators and whistling.  I smiled as I recalled the image and the beautiful person waiting for me at the bottom of the escalator.  It set me off on a tangent about my whistling.  I have always whistled.  I even used to be able to do the one where you put your fingers in your mouth and let 'er rip.  I haven't done that one successfully in years.  I'll bet if I practice it will come back.

Why whistle?  I've often wondered myself.  It seems to be such a natural thing to do.  I love music and I sing, too.  Whistling for me is more effective than singing.  As long as I can remember, whenever I am going someplace or am somewhere and I'm whistling, somebody always says, "There goes a happy guy!"

In general, yes, I am happy or, at least, content.  And, I suppose, whistling is the result.  I don't remember when I first started whistling seriously.  Is that an oxymoron?  I remember my dad whistling.  All the time.  For him, probably a coping mechanism.  I mean, six kids...that's what I remember.  Dad whistling.  I don't think I ever saw Grandpa whistle.  Grandpa would grunt a lot, though.

I remember hearing a recording, when I was young, of a whistler.  It was cool.  I don't know if we owned the vinyl or I just happened to hear it on the radio.  I remember it was a recording and thinking to myself, "They did a whole recording session of a guy whistling."  A harmonica band was one thing. A recording of a guy whistling was a new ballgame.  I started whistling more.

Now, I whistle every day.  I can whistle whole songs, lead guitar parts to rock anthems, I even get the string bending in, I whistle.

Some people take it very seriously.  This is a totally contained musical instrument.  Something that every one carries with them.  I used to carry a harmonica with me in my front shirt pocket.  Once in a while I would pull it out and give it a blow.  I have a step-brother in-law who plays real harmonica.  He has even written a book about harmonica players.  I've read it and found very few typos.  I haven't seen him since my dad died.  Looks like like he's doing ok.  The harmonica is something you put in front of your whistle.  It adds depth, for sure.  Whistling is pretty high frequency.  I wonder if you could shatter glass with a whistle?

Birds whistle but it doesn't come from their lips.  Because they have no lips.  So, is it a whistle?  No, in my opinion, it is chirping.  Birds vocalize.  They don't whistle.  If your world is built around the notion that birds whistle, I'm sorry, they don't.  Really, I'm sorry.  It's the truth.

I was very glad to be reminded of the image of me coming down the escalator, whistling.  That was a very good day in my life.  It makes me warm to think about it.  I like whistling and can burst into it at a moment's thought of a song that pops into my head.

Whistling is a happy activity and it makes people happy, too.  Thanks, wonderful person, for the great memory you made me remember today.