Best Advice of Jiminy Cricket

My big sister taught me how to whistle.

Not just a pursed lips tuneful type whistle but a fully feldged, four fingers in the mouth wolf whistle which when she did it put many lecherous builders attempts to shame. It was a mystery where she learnt the technique or who from. She has never been the type to hang out with typical whistlers. It was well practised and mastered by the time she passed on the knowledge to me.

I was quite quick to take it up and indeed I think that my trumpet playing days in a brass band will have helped in toning the muscles required to really let rip when a raucous whistle is really the only thing called for in a situation. I do not frequently use or abuse the skill because it is not just the penetrating and shrill sound that is important but the element of surprise when it comes from a most unlikely source, ie someone who looks as placid and docile as I do.

It is an ideal communication tool to attract the attention of a person in a crowd. Even in a thronging, busy street the tone and pitch cut through all residual noises from traffic to roadworks. As soon as a whistle permeates the air the results are astounding. With no exceptions, apart from the hard of hearing, all women look up and try to ascertain if it is directed at them. In a straw poll I would anticipate a 60% to 40% approval rate.  Men do not display any apparent interest or emotion but do try to track the direction of the whistle and if it is an indication of any thing 'kicking off'. This will give them the information to make a choice whether they should avoid a potential fracas or participate.

As a means of expressing enjoyment it is an ideal tool. I have experimented with a repetitive pattern of whistling at a concert, for example, so that if there is a subsequent release of a CD or DVD of the live performance I can possibly look forward to hearing myself. This has not, I should stress, happened yet after a dozen or so attempts at highjacking the life's work of a number of music artists.

I do have a repertoire of finer whistling for special occasions.

This was developed during the many hours I spent trying to find and retrieve the family dog from some thicket where it was usually head down and oblivious in a rabbit hole. A good tune can help the time to pass very quickly and when accompanied by humming, a staccato percussion line and throaty bass rhythm  the results be truly epic and spectacular. Unfortunately there was never anyone around ,in the hours of darkness dog walking ,within hearing distance to witness my best efforts.

I now do not realise that I am whistling. It is an automatic operation and this can be in all situations regardless of the politeness, tact and appropriateness of making such a noise. If not whistling it is full on humming. My Mother in Law expressed concern to her daughter about my personal accompanying soundtrack asking if it was down to stress. Far from it. I am convinced that my whistling and humming has in fact served to alleviate worry and the pressures in everyday life. I cannot however vouch for the feelings and emotions of those who have to listen to me all day long.