The Great Whistling Moratorium
By: susan peterson stamis
Tags: ceylon, father, foreign service, mother, music, playlist, screwball, whistling
Category: Uncategorized
My dad loved to whistle, and he was good at it. His tones were sweet and clear and pleasing to the ear. Sadly, the whistling gene passed me by, and no matter how hard I try, I sound like I’m spitting out chewed up crackers.
Although he drew the line at rock and roll, my father filled our home with an otherwise diverse selection of music (classical, swing, opera, Latin, Greek) piped through his various devices: radio, hi-fi, phonograph and reel to reel tape recorders. In each of the many houses we occupied throughout our nomadic lives, Dad was designated a corner for his paraphernalia; but he hit the jackpot in Ceylon, where he commandeered an entire room in which to fuel his musical passion.
Granted, Mom also occupied that space (the den/bar) and she frequently instructed Dad as to which songs she preferred for his playlists. These tapes he dutifully labeled, “Barbara’s Favorites” but Mom sometimes expressed her own opinions of his selections, jotting down on a corner of the boxes, “not very good,” or scrawling a large “X” across his methodically listed song titles.
One evening, my father was whistling along to one of his tunes, when my screwball mother, having decided at that very second in time that whistling after dark was bad luck, snapped, “Stop whistling, Pete.” My somewhat demoralized dad took the high road, or depending on one’s viewpoint, the path of least resistance and quit whistling whenever Mom was within earshot.
With this photo, taken in 1951 Germany many years before the Great Whistling Moratorium, I’m treated to a blissful memory of my Dad’s pure sweet whistle and the pleasure it so evidently gives me.
13 comments on “The Great Whistling Moratorium”
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About Me
My father was a Consular Officer in the United States Foreign Service. He was first stationed in post World War II Berlin, where I was born in 1950. Subsequently, we lived in the Philippines; Jamaica; Guatemala; Washington, DC; Greece; Ceylon and Mexico; visiting many places in between. I was reared by my parents and nurtured by the various amahs, nannies, and housemaids who, every two years or so, entered and exited my little life.
I was educated in American Schools in “foreign lands,” but the most fascinating classrooms were the exotic locales where we lived, and the most inspiring teachers were the colorful people of those exotic and ancient cultures.
The bi-annual “home leaves” which my family spent at my grandparents’ homes in Los Angeles, California provided a sense of constancy to our nomadic lifestyle. My many aunts, uncles and cousins lived there and I eagerly looked forward to those vacations. We were 1st and 2nd generation Greek Americans (all 4 of my grandparents had immigrated at the turn of the century), and thus had foreignness stamped onto us even though we were Americans.
Two of my father’s siblings were also in the diplomatic service, and we world-traveling cousins were a source of endless curiosity to our domestic counterparts when we came home speaking English with unusual accents, reducing the statesiders to hysterics.With his various cameras, Kodachrome, Ektachrome, 16 millimeter, Super 8 and Polaroid, my father rarely lost an opportunity to document the events unfolding around us. After years of waiting patiently in boxes under the stairs, these photographic records are now fulfilling their purpose as mnemonic retrievals of my little life.
Mnemonic Retrievals 
Oh, Susan, this is so sweet and touching. Love the photo!
Wishing you well. Happy & Healthy Thanksgiving,
Marta
Marta Fuchs, MLS, MFT Speaker, psychotherapist Author, Legacy of Rescue: A Daughter’s Tribute http://www.MartaFuchs.com
New! Co-producer, extended version “The Soldier’s Uniform”
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Thanks, sweet Marta ❤️
Love this and all your memories! 😍
Thanks! Miss you. ❤️
Love this! 😍
Wonderful memories!
Thanks! ❤️
I love all these memories, Susan. You have so many talents and I can’t believe whistling isn’t one of them. I don’t think you should admit to not having a whistling gene. I suggest that you simply respond-should there be an inquiry-to not wanting to spread VIRUS germs that may be around. You are a gracious lady after all.
Thanks, Joyce! Stay safe and warm ❤️
Love this story. We were stationed in Germany (where my brother was born) 1952-3.
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Thanks! Hope all is well ❤️
I love reading about your amazing life !!!
❤️