I used to be a pretty good whistler. It started when I was a kid, as my Dad was always whistling around the house. He taught me to whistle in a couple of different ways, and it carried into adult life.
The whistling seemed to be a frequent occurrence for me too. I remember working on a home improvement project one day and whistled so much that my face hurt.
I know, I know — the face joke. “You think it’s hurting you? It’s killing us.”
Anyway. I don’t whistle anymore, and for the life of me, I don’t know why it stopped. Perhaps it was when I got braces at age 43. Maybe all that metal in my mouth made it difficult to blow out a tune.
But now, my whistling is terrible. Again, I’m not entirely sure why. Did the shape of my mouth change when I got braces? Or is it just that I’m so out of practice that my whistling skills are gone?
It’s not important enough to me to dedicate any time to practice whistling. Seems like I waste my breath on enough things without adding whistling to the list.
Whistling, itself, seems harmless enough. But many don’t think so.
Perhaps this isn’t the case anymore, but whistling is considered to be a male-dominated activity. Women who whistled were labeled as unfeminine. Around the time I was in third grade, I was whistling at recess. Sister Eunice sent me to the office, saying it was unladylike to whistle. I had to sit, staring at Sister Adriana for quite some time as a result.
Some people don’t like it. I used to live in Charleston, South Carolina. Not far from there is a lovely little place called Sullivan’s Island, where you can enjoy the ocean and dine at a little place called Poe’s Tavern. It is a restaurant dedicated to the life of Edgar Allan Poe, and they used to make a mighty good hamburger.
Anyway, whistling is illegal at Sullivan’s Island. If you whistle there and you’ve disturbed the peace (especially between the hours of 11 pm and 7 am), you’re likely to get slapped with a $500 fine. Name that tune.
I guess it is a “nails on the chalkboard” thing for some people, especially in the workplace. There have been polls that showed people are generally annoyed by whistling in the workplace.
Then, there’s the trouble when you are suspected of being able to whistle to cause trouble. Take this guy, Keven Mitnick. He is an American computer security consultant, author, and convicted hacker.
Mitnick served five years in prison because law enforcement officials convinced a judge that he had the ability to “start a nuclear war by whistling into a payphone.” Yes, during his trial, it was suggested that he could somehow dial into the NORAD modem via a payphone and communicate with the modem by whistling to launch nuclear missiles. He got eight months of solitary confinement while there. (The other four and a half years were spent in prison pre-trial.)
It goes on. Whistling was (and is) considered unlucky or superstitious in many occupations or professions. Actors believe whistling backstage can ruin a performance. Those acting people have some seriously bad juju going on. If someone was caught whistling backstage in a theatre, they have to go outside and turn around three times. And then. They can’t go back inside until invited. In other cases, they were instantly sacked for bringing bad luck.
In the UK, there is a superstitious belief in this thing called the “Seven Whistlers.” They are, apparently, seven mysterious birds or spirits who call out to foretell death or a great calamity. It’s a real deal for some folks there. In the 19th century, large groups of coal miners refused to enter the mines after hearing this spectral whistling. Of those Seven Whistlers.
So. I just thought you should know. I don’t whistle anymore.
Yet, I still whistle while I work, but only in my mind.
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“Words make you think. Music makes you feel. A song makes you feel a thought.”
― Yip Harburg
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“Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent”
― Victor Hugo
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“When you wake up with a song stuck in your head, it means an angel sang you to sleep.”
― Denise Baer
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Give a little whistle
