I’ve found the easiest way to find a misplaced cell phone is to call my number and find the instrument ringing from under a pile of clothes, an upturned book or sometimes screaming from my very own pocket, which made me wonder why we couldn’t have some such feature for lost spectacles: Someone read my thoughts or maybe the thoughts of a billion spectacle users, and newspapers say have invented glasses that whistle back at you when lost!
Spectacles that whistle back at you when you whistle at them! Wow!
So here’s the scene after I buy those glasses: I lose them and go in search, by starting to whistle as I walk around the house, blindly banging into furniture, people and various animals that have suddenly decided to sit, stand or sprawl along my path.
“Ouch! You seem happy you banged into me!” says my wife as I continue whistling away to glory for lost spectacles.
“Dad’s become a sadist!” shouts my younger one angrily as I blindly walk into her without stopping my whistling.
My dog lets out a yelp as it runs from room to room. “What you looking for?” asks the wife.
“My glasses!” I say, making a whistle of the words.
“So why are you whistling?”
“I’ve bought the whistling type!” I explain, “It will whistle back as soon as it hears me!”
And soon the whole house, including the dog, whistle away for the missing pair: “You sure it will whistle back?” asks the wife, learning to speak in whistling fashion. “That’s what the manual says!” I whistle back.
There’s a knock on the door and in walks my pretty neighbor, “Uncle are these yours?” she asks, handling me a pair of glasses. “Thank you, thank you!” I shout “and where did you find them?”
“They found me! I heard a whistle outside your window and found them on the ledge, thought I’d bring them in!”
“How did you know whose it was?” asks my wife, oh so sweetly.
“It sounded so like uncle’s whistle!” says the pretty thing and I quickly show her out.
The whole house including the cat looks the other way as she leaves, “Look!” I tell them, “I sometimes stand at the window and whistle!”
“At pretty girls?” asks the wife.
I make my way hurriedly back to the spectacle shop. “You returning the Whistling Williams?” asks the owner.
“Whistling Williams?” I ask.
“Yeah, the fellow who invented them is a close friend of Prince William, who’s supposed to whistle at anything with two legs!”
“I wish you’d told me that before!” I mutter as the shopkeeper changes my pair to a non-whistling type. “Why?” ask the shop-keeper.
“It whistled at the girl next door!”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“It never whistled at my wife..!” I whispered miserably.
Robert Clements is a newspaper columnist and author. He blogs at www.bobsbanter.com and can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org