When I was growing up most men whistled as they moved through their daily routines.  The sidewalks and byways were filled with harmonious melodies producing lighthearted faces and lighthearted footsteps for those lucky enough to be in ear shot. My dad whistled occasionally but mostly he hummed. I had a boyfriend who used to whistle "Summertime" to me; I guess it was our song?  My mother whistled rarely although she was good at it.  I wonder if it was considered unladylike in the days when things like that mattered so much?  

I so want to be able to whistle but I have never been able to learn how!  So many people have tried to teach me; all without success.   Whistling looks like it is such a feel good thing and feeling good is the way to go!

When we moved into the house we live in now I discovered the most wonderful thing; our neighbor, Bob, whistled all the time and he produced the most beautiful music that way!  He spent a lot of time outside tending to his roses and yard and he would cheerfully whistle while he worked.  I loved listening to him and will readily admit that when Bob was outside whistling I wasn't doing anything but intently listening.  The year that I spent writing in the early 1990's was a very good year indeed.  The computer was on a ledge under our breakfast nook window.  That window had a direct bead on Bob's roses and yard.  When the songs started coming through that window, as they did very often, I would just stop and smile and wonder if life could get any better?    

Bob died in the late 1990s and I was sad but I could have been sadder.  His health had been failing for some time and he had sold his house next door to ours and moved to an assisted living center.  We lost touch with him then but not for lack of trying to keep in touch.  Unfortunately his health just got worse and worse and he was undoubtedly glad to move on when death finally knocked.  

There was a memorial service for Bob that we attended along with many other people.  The eulogist reminded us all about Bob's whistling and asked each of us when we heard a whistle, whether it be man made or a train whistle, to please think of Bob.  That was so poignant, I thought.  

We are on a train run that is not close enough to hear the "toot toot" all the time but when the wind is just right it can be heard and I find myself listening and smiling and saying "Hi, Bob! I still miss and think about you!"   

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I am going to give it a go one more time!

http://www.ehow.com/how_4839_whistle.html