I was eating lunch today at my folks’ house when my mother, who had been doing some cleaning, handed me a painted wooden whistle. “I found this in a cabinet and wondered if it was yours. I think maybe I gave it to you or your sister did; I can’t remember which. I’m trying to get rid of some stuff,” she said. I told her I couldn’t remember who might have given it to me. “Well, don’t you want to take it with you? You could play on it.”
“Bet I can’t,” I replied.
I vaguely recalled being given the whistle many years ago after some trip the mystery relative made to some distant land not known for fine whistles or whistlers. Because of my penchant for music, my family has been giving me cheap little instruments for as long as I can remember, which turned out well for me because that is how I obtained my first honest-to-God tinwhistle some twenty years ago, a Generation-type (the actual brand has been lost to antiquity) my dad picked up in an airport gift shop in Chicago.
Most of these gifts, however, have not been as fruitful as the Generation and like the little painted thing my mother handed to me today, they are basically junk. The whistle is painted brown with the impression of wood grain (the wood it is made from has no visible grain- probably something like balsa or sandalwood) and covering the brown are colorful flower-like images. It has five tone-holes with a significant crack running through the bottom two. The artisan who crafted this little gem was apparently conscious of the crack since he/she painted the crack interior to make it less noticeable.
I’m not sure which six-note scale culture this instrument came from that make whistles with five tone-holes, but it really makes no difference because covering and uncovering the holes while blowing the whistle makes no distinguishable difference in the pitch being produced. This would be because the sound window, which incidentally has been cut on the opposite side of the whistle from the tone-holes providing an interesting sensation on the chin while playing, is almost large enough to drive a Ford Explorer through. For all you C&Fers who like a light, airy sound to your whistles, have I got the instrument for you!
I really can’t fault my well-intentioned relatives who don’t know the first thing about whistles and want to bring a little joy to my life by giving me a supposedly musical reminder that they once took a trip to Ukraine, or Mexico, or Guam without me. What I don’t get is the people that sell these things. I can see selling a decorative wooden dinner plate that’s really not intended for use, but why a whistle? When someone gives you a hand-painted decorative plate you don’t say, “I think I’ll try this out right now on some mac’n’cheese!”, but when you get a musical instrument, your first inclination is to try to make a pretty sound on it. If it doesn’t work it might as well be a cleverly painted stick, or a keychain, or a little spoon. And this is one of at least thirty I have been given over the years- countless hollow sticks with arbitrary holes bored in them- tie a feather on it and it’s Native American, burn a geometric pattern on it and it’s Hawaiian, or just throw a sticker on it that says “Magic Kingdom”.
I would really enjoy collecting these things if they would only play a half-decent tune. Well, OK, I got this earthenware crocodile ocarina once that plays about four notes that I can make a tune out of, but it tastes like mud and I don’t really like where I have to blow the croc, so this is an exception to the previous statement. But why do they make and sell these things if they don’t play? Are five holes that much more cost-effective than six?
I bet I’m not the only one who gets these things laid on them from time to time, so I would like to hear stories from those of you. I would like to hear about the best and worst souvenir whistles you’ve gotten from your well-meaning loved ones who want to encourage you in your passions but just don’t understand whistledom.
Thanks for reading- I feel better now,
Ken