Tuned out: Where have all the whistlers gone?

These days, it seems to be more about keeping the music inside your head rather than letting it out.
SACRAMENTO BEE
Whistling is deader than coonskin caps and drive-in theaters, especially among the young.
"You don't hear much whistling anymore," says Sacramento Kings owner Gavin Maloof, who mastered the two-finger whistle back in grade school.
Maloof's celebrated courtside whistle rises above the Arco Arena din, a shock-and-awe thunderclap of shot-altering intensity. Impressive.
But whistling these days is mostly reserved for teakettles. Even locomotives don't whistle anymore -- they have horns.
So, what's up with whistling, once the unofficial American pastime? Where's the kid, hands stuffed in pockets, whistling his way to school?
Today, kids are more apt to hitch a ride to school, ear buds stuffed in each ear.
Instead of being jammed in mouths to learn whistling, young fingers are busy elsewhere, on video game controllers, punching cell phones and dancing along computer keyboards. Ask yourself, "Would the Seven Dwarfs have done 'Whistle While You Work' if they had iPods and cell phones?"
Today's whistling is mostly done by baby boomers weaned on "The Andy Griffith Show" theme, "Lassie," Clint Eastwood spaghetti Western soundtracks and Kyu Sakamoto's "Sukiyaki."
Guns N' Roses' ballad "Patience" won a Rolling Stone magazine poll last month for "best song that features whistling." That cut was released nearly 20 years ago.
Hip-hop hasn't exactly embraced whistling, except with rare exceptions such as Juelz Santana's "There It Go." Even then, it's debatable.
"Very few have used whistling as I have, to compose, weave it into stories, do all styles of music except hip hop," says internationally acclaimed whistler Milton Briggs. (You can listen to samples of his whistling on his Web site: http://miltbriggs.com/music.html.) "And who says I wouldn't work up something and do hip-hop?"
A variety of styles
Whistling styles swing from crude to classical. As a form of communication we can whistle to call a cab, a wayward dog or express emotion at sporting events and concerts. In the Canary Islands, Silbo Gomero is a language that is whistled rather than spoken.
Audiences in Europe and South America whistle to show disapproval at concerts and soccer games. Everywhere you can blow the whistle on somebody, wet your whistle or whistle in the dark.
In a superstitious sense, whistling is bad luck if performed in newsrooms, aboard ships, in mines and inside theaters.
And, whistling can be considered downright annoying in modern society, like chewing ice or cutting in line.
Briggs, an international grand champion and a member of the Whistlers' Hall of Fame, recalls his early days while working for a retail credit company.
"I was in a room full of typewriters and I didn't like it, so I'd start to whistle off-key on purpose," he says. "They threw erasers and paper clips at me."
According to Hans Schmid of the Right to Quiet Society, "Everybody can whistle, sing or hum to his or her heart's content, as long as they are considerate and don't impose it on others within earshot. Of course, the length of the earshot expands with the loudness of the whistle or voice. Indeed, some whistles can be loud enough to make somebody's ears ring ... ."
Only alone?
In other words, whistling is OK when done in solitary confinement, uninhabited areas of the planet or discreetly within your own walls.
Briggs transcends everyday whistlers, honing his talent for the world of organized whistling. He, too, feels whistling is on the decline among the masses, but defends its staying power.
"It's never going to be mainstream, but whistling is a sound that will never go away," he says. "Whistling is out there. If you listen, you'll hear it."
The antithesis of Maloof's bellicose blasts, Briggs' trained pucker is an instrument that lends a mellifluous drift to classical selections as well as blues, jazz and folk.
"I sing, so I integrate a whistle like I would an instrument," says Briggs, who also accompanies himself either on guitar or piano.
Briggs is retired and in his mid-60s, an age group that appreciates accomplished whistlers. But the 18-to-34 demographic isn't much for puckering up and blowing out a tune. Whistling, to the younger generation, may be better than yodeling, but not significantly better.