We've Got the Bells, Where Are the Whistles: Let's Pucker Up
Posted: Saturday, March 21, 2009
by John Brazell
The first whistle was an accident, a lark.
While eating a tart McIntosh Apple, nursing sore ribs, and tired of kissing, Adam said to Eve, "This one makes me pucker. Think I'll moisten my lips, curl my tongue and blow some hot air through it."
"Golly gee whiz Adam, you sound happy, like a bird. Can you do more?"
"Well, yeeeah, Evie, I ain't just a whistlin' Dixie ."
Sometime thereafter whistling became a rite of passage, an art form, a solitary symbol of cheerfulness, of happiness. And so it flourished. But lo, it is recorded there came a dark side.
Raucous swill drinkers, including politicians, lords of manor, mastodon hunters and castle construction gangs used a shrill whistle to summon slaves and dogs and harass women wearing tight-fitting leopard spandex. Weavers of cloth brought forthwith a fabric called corduroy, cords that when rubbed vigorously by two adjoining thighs, made a whistling sound. And corduroy and "whistle britches" became a hot item.
Melodic whistling waned as humans lost interest in entertaining themselves by themselves. They discovered Hula Hoops, diodes, microchips, phlash, bells and "whistles", and lost desire to pucker and blow.
I hadn't thought much about the absence of bird-like whistling or what it portends until suddenly I heard warbling. I was loitering, actually interloping, with the Big Boys in a Big Box store when in the midst of cell phones ringing, 2 X 4 tossin' and gruntin', and sweat dripping to the floor came the cheerful sound hifi quality.
Turning to the source, a pleasant looking chap, I asked what my old Grandpop would have asked, "Are you a bird?" Actually I didn't because he was bigger than moi and most birds. Rather, I suggested that melodic whistling was an oral expression from a happy person and I reasoned that he was happy, as was I, or something long and verbose to that effect.
He said, "Well, yeah."
Grandpop, an early practitioner of "Pop Science" and a precursor to Dr. Phil and Oprah, thought everyone who whistled a tune was happy. It was biologically impossible to pucker and frown at the time. Should a thirty-two-year-old orangutan be a fit example, I think he was right.
Bonnie is a rare primate who learned to whistle by listening to a zoo worker (see link).
"She only whistles when she's in a playful mood and doesn't do it to get attention or rewards", says her caretaker at the National Zoo in Washington DC . Should it not be obvious, this isn't the same zoo as the one down on Capitol Street that houses 535 of America 's favorite monkeys.
With chins down everywhere I'm all for making Bonnie a national symbol of optimism, a POSTER CHIMP or "Ambassador of Whistling". Let her whistle all the happy tunes she wants and may we all begin to smile again. And who wouldn't follow? She's charismatic, smart, well met and doesn't want Botox. In a slug-fest of ideas and principles, and a food fight in the congressional cafeteria, she'd be a bare knuckles kind of girl.
It's an advantage that Bonnie calls DC home as she's comfortable in the epicenter cage of the world. There would be no uprooting, no readjustment, and no moving expenses only a small per diem for banana daiquiris at the LBJ memorial speakeasy.
Finally, Bonnie is the only living thing, aside from a zoo worker, in the Nation's Capital that still whistles a happy tune. Though . . . a far cry from the only one that puckers up.
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Note to Adam and Eve: You wouldn't believe it. We've gone from Mackintosh Apples to Apple's Mackintosh. Go figure.
"You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your lips together and... blow." Lauren Bacall
Click here: YouTube - BONNIE
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Top-level comments on this article: (1 total)What a fun read. and educational too :-) Blessings to you! Teresa
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