More on whistling…

If you know me at all, you know a few of the things that I am truly passionate about:

Anything with bleu cheese in it.

The perfect ponytail.

Writing. (?)

Jokes about farting. Anything to do with farting. I think it’s hilarious. Always will.

Whistling.

(This seems like an adequate list for an almost 25 year-old to have, right?)

I recently have just given a little more thought to my passion for whistling. I can’t even remember when it started. Actually, I guess I sort of can. I remember sitting in the backseat of my parents car on the way home from church. My dad always used to whistle whatever songs we had just sung at church that day. I would sit there, silent, staring out the window, listening to his whistling or my mom’s talking or the a.m. radio station’s crackling, and think to myself, “that’s not even that good. I can whistle better than that…”

I’m not sure how I knew this, but, sure enough, I could. I could whistle those church hyms three or four times louder, more on key, and just overall better sounding that he could.

So I started to whistle EVERYTHING.

And never stopped.

I remember I would just absent-mindedly whistle any jingle or tune that I had most recently heard. One time, it came out as the theme for Trojan condoms. I was in the kitchen with my mom and brother. Couldn’t have been older than ten or twelve, and was doing something by myself-entertaining myself-which I remember being much better at than I am these days-and I just started whistling that theme song.

My brother said something like, “How do you feel about the fact that you’re daughter is whistling the theme to the Trojan condom commercial?”

I don’t think she paid much attention to it. It was just Corie being Corie.

Over the years several have tried to challenge me on my whistling abilities. It’s not something I like to use to show off. So, I’m generally not up for whistling duels. I WOULD ritualistically have “whistle-offs” with one of the Mexican, barely English speaking kitchen workers at my job every Saturday night when we were closing. He would whistle something and I would whistle it back. I would whistle something and he would whistle it back.

It was entertaining for all involved.

For the first three minutes. Then they became annoyed. As most everyone does.

One time my mom told me that people that whistle are usually in good moods. “You must be in a good mood,” she would say.

I remember thinking, “Oh. Cool. I’m in a good mood!”

Not that long ago a friend told me that her mom told her that crazy people whistled.

…………..

I try to think of the specific times I whistle, and there really is no way to tell why I do it. I whistle most often at work. I do it loudly, relentlessly, incessantly….sometimes I hit notes that even make mySELF annoyed. I can’t imagine what people who come in there to eat think. When I’m working. Sometimes…it’s really noticeable.

I whistle in the car, alone, by myself. When others would sing, I whistle.

Just now, I received some news that I thought wouldn’t be coming. And sure enough, it came.

And I hadn’t whistled all morning.

But I started.

And….who knows…what that means.