There is a man, homeless I think, that walks through the Marquette campus nearly every day. I don't know anything about him; I wouldn't even know him if he walked right up to me. But he has a very identifying quality -- he whistles. It's never a recognizable song, just tuneless intervals. Now, many people whistle, but Mr. Whistle (as we call him) is different. He whistles loudly. Think you know what I mean? Try this: I live on the fourteenth floor of my building. When I am in my apartment, with all the windows closed, A/C or heater running, listening to the news on the radio, I can hear him. From three blocks down the street. That is some loud whistling.
Rock on with your bad self, Mr. Whistle.