It’s the Friday before a nice long holiday weekend, so it’s the perfect time for another post in the IF-Free Zone. The IF-Free Zone is a commitment to blogging about something other than my infertility journey every now and then. Why blog off-topic? Asnwer: we are more than our infertility! So enjoy another installment in the IF-Free Zone, a peek into regular ‘ol me.
I’ve always struggled with whistling. Despite being an accomplished soprano in my youth (a long story for another day), for whatever reason, I couldn’t really whistle… until about a month ago. I don’t know what it was, but I started whistling to the songs on my car stereo rather than singing along. Most times I’d sound like a lonely prairie wind: all whooshing and no tonality. Then, I started experimenting in the shower. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror once doing this and had to stop and laugh. I looked like a howler monkey, contorting my lips into various shapes to achieve lower and higher pitches.
I’m getting much better and find myself whistling randomly all the time now. It’s enjoyable. It’s a skill I’ve decided to revisit, to teach myself how to do it better. I’m not exactly studying any complex manuals here; when the mood strikes me, I just start whistling.
I have always been jealous of people who can whistle and do it well. My husband is a great whistler. I had a boss once whose whistling rivaled the agility of a skilled piccolo player. He was whistling so gorgeously in the copy room once I stood in the doorway just to listen. He turned around, embarrassed; he didn’t realize there was still anyone left in the office.
“No, go on,” I said with a grin. “You whistle like a champ!”
The irony: this was when I worked in a theatre-related capacity. According to superstition, whistling in the theatre is considered bad luck.
Whistling does get a bad rap. I’ve heard it’s a bad luck to whistle in front of a bride on her wedding day. In Japan, you don’t really hear people whistling; Japanese folklore says that whistling will attract snakes in the night. Russian folklore brings us the phrase “to whistle your money away” – they believed that whistling would literally scare away angels that protected your home and without protection, you’d lose your money.
In general, whistling is often seen as disrespectful; think of the sterotypical image of construction workers whistling at a pretty lady as she walks by. And yet, whistling was a vital tool for sailors on merchant ships in the glory days of maritime. There is functionality to whistling: to get someone’s attention, for example. Okay, so maybe it’s not the most polite way to do it, but it works. Or, if you’re Anna in The King and I, whistling helps chase away her fears. (Google my post title if you’re not familiar with the song.)
Whistling is such a strange, distinct noise that we are able to make. It’s melodic but jarring, not like the primal ferocity of screaming or shouting. It’s a sound you expect from the beak of a bird, not from the lips of a full-grown person.
I mean, when you think about it, whistling is kind of silly. As it’s been so famously said: you just put your lips together and blow.
Happy Friday folks and have a safe holiday weekend. I know I’ll be whistling mine away!
Somehow I missed this! I've been whistling for the baby lately, and she looks around as if to say "mama, WHERE is that noise coming from? It's CERTAINLY not human." 🙂
Fun post. I've always wanted to be one of those women who could put two fingers in her mouth and whistle so hard and loud that cabs a mile away race to her within seconds.
Alas, no.
I love this post and I too have always wished I could whistle better.
Loving the IF-free zone!
I still can't whistle. I've never been able to. I've had SO many people try to teach me. It has to be some sort of genetically inferior-whistling trait or something…
But I'm a great hummer 🙂