Wistful whistling

Luxembourg, we who live here like to joke, only has two seasons, and both are cold and rainy. It is one of the few places in the world where you can suffer from winter depression in Springtime. But this afternoon was uncharacteristically mild. The sun remained a UFO (unseen floating object) as usual, but several parts of the sky were actually blue. 

So I whistled while I walked to my car. On the way, I passed several people. Now I am not a bad whistler, but I tend to go for tunes that I invent on the spot, which means, like in jazz (the imperfect art), that there is always a chance that it will go horribly wrong. This is why I cannot help checking people's reactions while I whistle. But for the most part, no-one ever seems to mind. In fact, several people have remarked that it cheers them up. 

A few days ago, in Amsterdam, I saw someone singing out loud while walking in a busy street. The singer was not drunk, and he could hold a tune, but the reactions of others there was much more along the lines of "singing in the street is just not done". Of course, Amsterdam being known for its tolerance, no-one would actually say this, but you could see it on people's faces. 

So what is the difference between whistling and singing? The only one I can think of is that singing is much more intimate. It doesn't matter how much of your soul you put into whistling, you will always bare more of it by singing. But that only begs yet another question, namely, why does that make us uncomfortable? Is it perhaps because it could be seen as an invitation that we do not want to acknowledge (I'm baring my soul, now it's your turn)? 

I'm not sure, but I think I will stick to whistling. And when I really feel I have to sing outdoors, I will make sure no-one is around.