I missed ”The Whistler” this morning. He usually comes blowing through the North Western Atrium Center`s lower level puffing away loudly and singularly on one of his beloved patriotic songs just as I`m having my early- morning coffee and donut.
He favors Sousa marches. You know-the one that`s often sung, ”Three cheers for the red, white and blue,” and that other one high school kids used to sing off-colored words to.
He`s big on ”America The Beautiful,” has an earnest place in his heart for ”God Bless America,” often does ”The Star Spangled Banner” and a very rousing ”Battle Hymn of the Republic.”
I have often wondered about his motives, if any. Perhaps he`s truly carried away with his birthright upon awakening each morning. Then again maybe it wasn`t his birthright, and he had to earn it.
Maybe this unexceptional-looking middle-aged city worker is trying to teach us all a less-than-subtle lesson about patriotism; but I would like to think it`s spontaneous and from the heart.
Perhaps I was a little early, or a little late, this morning. Or perhaps illness temporarily diminished his propensity for patriotic marching and piping. Anyhow, I missed ”The Whistler.”
