Thank you for Whistling
Have you ever heard an unhappy person whistle? I can’t even imagine what that would sound like.
It’s been said that only one in six women can whistle. (That could be an obsolete statistic.)
Whistling was one of the first musical instruments—long before the electric guitar. I whistle for my friends when I’m lost in a department store, I whistle when I enter my friend, Karma’s house and she whistles back.
When my friend, Paglietti calls he has a special whistle to let me know it’s him. I have not heard my friend, Linda whistle–she’s from the South and whistling was probably not allowed by curly haired little girls in patent leather shoes, but her laughter is just as contagious as any whistle.
I love the sound of a wolf whistle when I walk past a work crew (this happens rarely anymore and I don’t know if that’s because I am older or because of the threat that an unsuspecting whistler will be harangued by a lawyer and sent to flirter’s prison). I really respect those folks who can whistle for a taxi from 2 blocks away.
The Seven Dwarves would probably not be so cute if they didn’t whistle while they worked.
It is said that sailors on old ships had a different whistle for each sail so they knew which line to pull when it was time to raise the sails.
I have taught a couple folks how to whistle in my life.
I learned when I was nine, from my friend Emma, who lived on a horse ranch.
Teaching someone to whistle is like giving them free music on their ipod.
Listening to a person whistle makes one feel like all is right with the world and something good is happening.
Whistling is cheeky soul music.
Thanks for whistling.
Pan (Faun) Whistling at a Blackbird –Arnold Böcklin 1863