onionbagblog
The Whistler
My early morning swim is all about solace. I seek silence to start the day, and so do my fellow Clap'ham swimmers at 7am. There's the odd nod here and there, recognition that you are not alone in this early morning loner lifestyle.
And then along comes The Whistler.
Some might see him as a cheerful gawblimey bloke, livening up the day with a smile and a tune for anyone who's listening. But you can't choose not to listen.
I view The Whistler as a right pain in the arse, not to mention the ears as well. He should be thrown in at the deep end whenever he opens his lips and comes out with some Dick Van Dyke crap in the changing rooms.
He whistles along each morning to some long lost song from the days of Empire; A different time when Rolling Out the Barrel kept away the doodlebugs. Some sixty years later and it's just a right racket ringing in your eardrums as you attempt to go about your morning routine.
I've tried to stop The Whistler. Early morning swimming etiquette doesn't allow for a punch in the face. My initial 'tut tuts' have become 'oh for fucks sake!' as he showers his short and curlies whilst whistling for Queen and Country like it was Last Night of the Proms.
But all of this whistling has made him tone deaf. My act of defiance doesn't register with him. A drowning in the deep end would do the trick.
There can rarely be any justification for whistling. Evan Dando just about got away with it on If I could Talk; Doug E Fresh went deep down in my estimation with The Show.
The Whistler manages to take it down to another level. I am annoyed by his incessant whistling, more than he actually enjoys the act of whistling itself. Which makes me a bad person. I still want to punch his lights out though.
technorati: whistling
| Wednesday 12 February, 2008 |
My early morning swim is all about solace. I seek silence to start the day, and so do my fellow Clap'ham swimmers at 7am. There's the odd nod here and there, recognition that you are not alone in this early morning loner lifestyle.
And then along comes The Whistler.
Some might see him as a cheerful gawblimey bloke, livening up the day with a smile and a tune for anyone who's listening. But you can't choose not to listen.
I view The Whistler as a right pain in the arse, not to mention the ears as well. He should be thrown in at the deep end whenever he opens his lips and comes out with some Dick Van Dyke crap in the changing rooms.
He whistles along each morning to some long lost song from the days of Empire; A different time when Rolling Out the Barrel kept away the doodlebugs. Some sixty years later and it's just a right racket ringing in your eardrums as you attempt to go about your morning routine.
I've tried to stop The Whistler. Early morning swimming etiquette doesn't allow for a punch in the face. My initial 'tut tuts' have become 'oh for fucks sake!' as he showers his short and curlies whilst whistling for Queen and Country like it was Last Night of the Proms.
But all of this whistling has made him tone deaf. My act of defiance doesn't register with him. A drowning in the deep end would do the trick.
There can rarely be any justification for whistling. Evan Dando just about got away with it on If I could Talk; Doug E Fresh went deep down in my estimation with The Show.
The Whistler manages to take it down to another level. I am annoyed by his incessant whistling, more than he actually enjoys the act of whistling itself. Which makes me a bad person. I still want to punch his lights out though.
technorati: whistling
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