Watch and Learn

Those of you who know me know that I'm pretty much the best person ever. Those of you who don't know me are fools, since you haven't taken the time to get to know me, because not only am I amazingly charming and intelligent, I'm devastatingly handsome and witty.

But beneath my polished and sophisticated façade, I'm hiding a deep, dark secret:

I can't whistle.

The funny thing is, I don't really care. The only reason it bothers me is that people are stupid.

Yes, I suppose that is an oblique line of reasoning. I'll untangle it for you.

For some reason, people in general, especially those who can whistle, cannot seem to comprehend a world in which others lack that skill. So, at least 90 per cent of the conversations I've had about this have gone the same way, except for the opening line.

Not me: "Hey, check that chick's knockers! Let's whistle at her!"

Me: "I can't whistle."

Not me: "Really? It's easy! (starts whistling)

Thanks, genius. Apparently anything can be learned by watching one casual demonstration. Maybe, in the quarter of a century-plus that I've been alive, I've just never seen another human whistling. All I needed was to see you do it once.

Knowing that any idiot can learn anything just by seeing someone else do it had me pretty discouraged. I worried that I might be afflicted with a learning disability, or at least a learning-trivial-skills disability.

Or maybe it's genetic. My mom has the dire affliction of not being able to roll her tongue. She's managed to survive almost 60 years without being able to do this, but it really bothers her for some reason. And you know what? I demonstrated it for her… and it didn't work!

Being stubborn, but determined, I tried learning other things by passive viewing. For example, I was watching Ong-Bak a few nights ago. I sat on my couch stuffing my face with honey-roasted peanuts and watched. And learned.

After I finished watching it, I went for a walk to Jane and Finch with 20 dollar bills hanging out of my pockets. When attacked, I set my pants aflame and employed my arsenal of gravity-defying Muay Thai moves.

They didn't work. I got my ass kicked, but at least I wasn't badly burned because I peed my pants in fear.

I hadn't learned a thing! There must be something seriously wrong with me. Or perhaps there's sometimes more to learning than just watching some dummy demonstrate.

I ain't just whistling Dixie when I say that, either.