Wednesday, April 7, 2010

You know how to whistle, don't you?

Horrifying discovery of the week: whistling gives you wrinkles!

Seriously - I was teaching somebody how to whistle the other day, and standing at the mirror and puckering up I suddenly saw my parallel-universe self, a lifelong pack-a-day puffer, and realized what I'll look like at 80 if I keep it up.

This bothers me because I can whistle a tune like nobody's business, for a really long time... hours, if I'm doing something really boring.

Like the time I was Executor for a guy who had done a lot of wordworking in his day and never met a scrap of wood, metal, or elastic band he didn't think he could find a use for (wrong) and I whistled for about three days straight clearing up the mess in his basement.

Eventually his tenant told me he considers whistling to be unladylike, which I suspect was code for Please Stop, You're Slowly Driving Me Insane, but I kept going anyway. Hey, it's not like he was offering to help carry all that heavy stuff out to the Dumpster!

Anyway ever since the Mirror Incident I've been trying not to whistle. I keep catching myself and stopping, but I'm not catching myself any less frequently as the days pass. I think I might really miss whistling if I stop for reals.

Do you think it really matters if I have a lot of wrinkles in my lipstick?

Don't answer that. Even at 80 I expect I'll care.

And you know, I'll always have nose harmonica. Small mercies!

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