Whistling Keyring Monologue

MissDoozer’s comment yesterday reminded me of something that happened many years ago.

Somebody had given me a whistling keyring for Christmas.  If you whistled, it whistled back so you could find it.  Ideal for someone who keeps putting their keys down in random places*.

In the January Phil was asked to do the sound in the Bridge Folk Club for a performance by The Kipper Family: a two-man novelty English folk group, performing as Sid Kipper and his father Henry, supposedly recently discovered traditional folk singers from Norfolk.

Their act was hilarious and included a “whistling monologue”.

To which my damned keyring insisted on responding.

At the front, next to the sound desk, I desperately tried to muffle it.

Shoved it in my glove, inside another glove, doubled over, inside my woolly hat, also doubled over – the damn thing kept audibly peeping and cheeping.

I was hugely relived when that part of the evening was over.

A few days later I told Float, an engineer friend, about my embarrassment.

He looked at me as if I was simple and asked

“Why didn’t you just take the battery out?”

🔑📱⌚ 

*I now keep my door and car keys on a chain pinned to my belt or pocket and spend time looking for my watch, mp3 player, handbag or mobile phone instead.  

Sometimes I end up ringing my mobile from the landline.