NY Mag should have interviewed me ("effortless, laid-back, secure") for this article on the current whistling renaissance. I am a whistler nonpareil, just ask my mother (“Don’t you ever stop?”). Or suttonhoo (“Wow, I never realized you whistled so much.”). Or SarahB (“OHMIGOD SHUT UP ALREADY.”).
Tonight I had to walk 25 blocks home from work, thanks to urban decay, and I was still whistling when I got to the top of the stairs (oh, the usual: the overture to Merrily We Roll Along). It’s probably an extended mental breakdown about to manifest itself in the form of some good old fashioned axe murdering, in which case: you read about it here first.