My west coast brother told me, earlier today, that this is "Yodel for Your Neighbors Day." Just seeing the word yodel brought back an avalanche of memories. But before I get into that, let me assure you that I have not, nor do I plan to yodel for my neighbors. There are three very good reasons for this constraint on my part:
1. It's bitter cold outside, not at all a good day for yodeling.
2. Many of my neighbors don't know me very well and this would not be a great first impression. Even though, if I stood in the middle of the cul-de-sac, I could entertain several neighbors at once.
3. And, probably most importantly, I can't yodel.
That brings me back to the memories. When I was young our heroes were cowboys. Many of the shows we heard on the radio and later watched on television starred singing cowboy, and sometimes cowgirls. Gene Autry, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans were our favorites. I liked their singing (who can forget "Happy Trails to You"?) but I was especially impressed with their yodeling. They could all yodel beautifully. At about that same age, 10 maybe, I read the novel "Heidi" about a young girl raised by her grandfather in the Swiss Alps. Yodeling seemed to bounce from every page of that book, even if I was only hearing it in my imagination. 'Yodel ay hee hoo' is how they spelled it out. and when they yodeled people far away could hear them.
I have tried and tried to learn to yodel but alas to no avail. Lucky for me, I have never been lost in a snowstorm in the Alps (or anywhere else for that matter) with a need to make enough noise to be rescued.
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