Does anyone have a cure for complete and utter stupidity? I am in desperate need of assistance. I got a good generation D, played it in the shop, was absolutely delighted. Brought it home. Lost it. Can’t find it anywhere. Can’t sleep. Can’t eat. Am pining. 
How could I have done such an awful thing?
Does anyone else show such flagrant disregard for their whistles, or is it just me? How do I stop myself? Help!
Callybeg
It’s behind a cushion on your sofa/couch/Chesterfield (what do you call them, in the UK?).
Either that, or it’s in plain sight on a table- or countertop.
Anyway, that’s where mine always are.
I hope it turns up! I have had things vanish for days at a time only to be found unexpectedly…usually where I had already looked for them.
A good Generation is a really good whistle…I have a couple of nice ones and they frequently wind up being the whistles I grab the most often.
I like your use of the Rede as a signature line, by the way.
Hoping the wee folk return your whistle soon, 
–James
If all else fails, I’ll send Tania, our 10 year-old daughter to rescue you. She’s the world’s best finder.
There was an “Activities Day” at the Girl Scouts a couple of months ago. I picked up our girls at the end of the day and each reported her awards. Brought them home to the missus and said, guess what Tania won first place in?
She said, “FINDING!” Correct. Blindfold finding was one of the events.
Best wishes,
Jerry
Jerry Freeman wrote:
If all else fails, I’ll send Tania, our 10 year-old daughter to rescue you. She’s the world’s best finder.
There was an “Activities Day” at the Girl Scouts a couple of months ago. I picked up our girls at the end of the day and each reported her awards. Brought them home to the missus and said, guess what Tania won first place in?
She said, “FINDING!” Correct. Blindfold finding was one of the events.
I need to borrow her. My 6-year-old son loses toys among the zillion he has, and he thinks I’m lying when I say I don’t know where something is!
My favorite cheapie, a Clare brass, disappeared for about a week. It’s a car whistle, which my toddler had been playing on a trip. It reappeared as quickly as it disappeared. Now if I could just find her drumstick that disappeared almost 2 years ago. . .
I showed this post to Tania. Now she’s mad at me because I told her I was just kidding and she’s not really going to England.
Yeah, I got a “ghost” who regularly “disappears” things here…either that or other Weekender’s penchant for tossing stuff. She hasn’t been by there, has she? Crowning achievement this year was throwing away my unemployment check. Because I am so paranoid as per her regular accusation, I bothered to look in the garbage and there it was.
I have a pair of those padded bike shorts that simply disappeared about a week ago. It is possible that they walked away, as they needed a good washing or maybe it grossed out the ghost of the ol lady who used to live here . Had to go to REI to buy a new pair to ride. I thought that would hasten their return. No dice. Tore the place up and so did the guilty other Weekender who “may have” done something with em. I mean, they just disappeared from hanging on a hook to ?? Still waiting for their emergence.
Spooky!
There are three possible explanations if my own experience is anything to go by
(1) The whistle fairy has pinched it. This is a close relation of the sock fairy who only pinches one of the pair.
(2) You have a ghost who moves things for fun. We have one called Emma who fequently moves my glasses from the bedside table, knowing it will cause pandemodium in the morning.
(3) It is down the back of the setee. I found my whistle there last time that I played and lost it, along with a small fortune in loose change and the dogs bone.
Good luck with your search,
David
I have a gift for what my wife calls “making things just go away”. I can something in my hand one moment and not the next. It doesn’t happen to me as much as it used to when I was younger. Used to drive co-workers nuts when I worked in a department store. “You still got that (random part to something we were assembling) I just gave you?”
“Nope”
Mark V.
It turned up! Must have been you all wishing me well. Oh Frabjious day, calloo, callay! Woohoo! 
I think my mum might have been playing it - it just turned up in the kitchen, in a bag with wholewheat flour, and baking soda. My mum liked playing whistle, and has been nagging me to cook me family soda bread. It might seem like an odd way for her to communicate with me, but then she has been dead eleven years now, and the phones don’t work too well where she is - only one member of the family has had a telephone conversation with her since she died, and it wasn’t me.
(My son has long conversations with her, when she turns up disguised as a cat. Apparently I am only fortysix percent mad. 
)
My whistle going to be called either Sheila, Bridget or Biddy. What do you all think?
Callybeg
I like Bridget.
Be a very Lady-like whistle! 
–James
ba-dum-bum ::cymbal crash::
Hi James and Shannon!
~Andrea
Thanks James. I like Bridget too - she was the Goddess of music, so a good name for an Irish whistle.
Hey - you know you have all been going on about how good a Generation can be? You are all right. It’s beautiful! I am a happy bunny again. Also, I am beginning to sound like I can actually play a lick or two, so long as I stick to the few tunes I know. Most slow airs I can play fine, my only jig I know by name is Donny Brook Fair, and something or other by Mozart which is surprisingly easy on the whistle, but I can’t remember the name of. Seamus (my famous seven year old son) is still playing Jazz Funk on his, but is also playing “It has to be perfect” by Eddy Reader, “Oh When the Saints” “Oranges and Lemons,” and the saxophone solos out of Madness hits. The cats have got used to us.
You know that you are with the right person - the love of your life in fact - when on a trip to London he remembers to pack your whistle for you so that you can play tunes for him on the way there and back. (The trip to London explains my recent silence.) I was at the National Vegan Festival on Sunday, and a random whistler walked in and started playing the Mozart piece, a Scottish jig, and a version of women of Ireland. (My version is best. ) But the main thing is - me fellah likes listening to me! (Or at least has stopped threatening suicide.) The son and heir spent an hour yesterday after school practising his repertoire. The neighbours live too far away for us to care what they think. Random strangers appear in the middle of London and teach me new tunes. Halleluia! And Bridget came back to me.
Life is good.
Callybeg
Callybeg
Don’t despair, its just one of the lesser known symptoms of WhOA.
I, myself, occasionally get new whistles that I didn’t know I had. Most recently a Sweetone D that I’d long forgotten chose to end it’s long meditation and came back out of wherever it had been hibernating. I found it lying on the floor of my car. Now I drive that car daily, up to 600 miles a week, and I had not seen that whistle in a minimum of four years, more likely five.
So don’t despair. When it tires of it’s sabbatical, it will return, enlightened and free of spiritual taint.
Believe, pilgrim.
Um, I believe it has returned, Chuck.
Y’mean I’m actually supposed to READ these things?
What a novel concept!
What a perfectly delightful, wonderfully cheering post.
Thank you for shining such a serendipidous beam of sunshine into my day.
Best wishes,
Jerry
Beth & I know a jig called “The Trip to London” - not sure if we count as random, but we’re both strange - want to learn it?
Beth & I know a jig called “The Trip to London” - not sure if we count as random, but we’re both strange - want to learn it?
Yes please! The only thing is I can’t read music. 
But if you can figure out a way to teach me I will be delighted - and think of random Fipplers whenever I play. 
Callybeg