Last night was Macy Gray and Dave Matthews at PacBell Park. Eric Clapton also made an appearance, which was very cool; but, I don’t think most people realized it due to the drive-thru window reverberating sound system, and, Dave’s (we’re on a first name basis) mumbling. It was something like, “m’kay-ay-ay, fleasg relcome-ome-ome… Bister Bali Glayton-on-on!!!”

Another highlight was the awesome contact-high woo-action from the nearly sold-out crowd. (This, by the way, harkens to a previous post by Meg which was in turn horked from misterpants)

The two girls in front of me were clearly whoo-masters. Loud, high-pitched WHOO’S would escape from there throats at all the right times (drum solos, wild lighting effects, mumblings from Dave [to wit:

“Gravvfbdaefbleggah….”

“WHOOOOOOOO!!!!!” turn to friend “What did he say?”

“I dunno” shrug “WHOOOOOOOO!!!!”])

Every time they would scream, I would scream louder in that football-game-whoo with the slight masculine rasp. I was expecting them to eventually turn around and tell me to shut-up, but they instead turned around with big smiles and “YEAH’s!”

Most effective use of whoo-ology? When one of the girls was apparently spending too much time with the stranger next to her, chatting about Dave’s majesty, and her girlfriend turned to her with a quizzical and imploring “whoo?”

good times, good times…