Trace Adkins provided the hip swaying fun and sexy low notes we’ve come to expect from the tall and talented country crooner when he appeared Friday, Feb. 16 at the Trump Taj Arena in Atlantic City.
While sitting in the elevated center section of the room, a fine spot behind the sound and light techs, our section had an enjoyable distraction, a Trace Adkins fan who was like a crazy country dancing version of a mime. He danced after ladies that walked by, danced away from security guards when he was getting a little too frisky, and showboated into the hearts of the TA fans nearby. In fact when a security guard asked him to move along, a few of us booed.

But back to the show. Trace uncorked a 20-song show that included all his favorites including “Songs About Me,” “This Ain’t No Thinking Thing,” “Every Light In The House,” and from his new album Dangerous Man, “Swing,” “Ride,” “Dangerous Man” and “Ladies Love Country Boys.”
One of the highlights of the evening was when Trace paid tribute to one of his major musical influences, Ronnie Milsap, with a dynamic rendition of Milsap’s “Stranger In My House.”
His final two songs of the night were "Honky Tonk Badonkadonk" and for his one-song encore, “Chrome.”
Opening act Craig Morgan added to the fun with a terrific 10-song set that included his big hits “Red Neck Yacht Club” and “Little Bit of Life."

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Normally I don’t give a plug to an organization that rates movie not on artistic merit, but on how they offend Christian values. I’ve never quite understood how being a Christian means you have to be a right-winger, but somehow in most media outlets, that is how it plays out.
This preamble brings me to Movieguide: A Family Guide to Movies and Entertainment. Recently, Movieguide, in partnership with the Christian Film & Television Commission, announced the Rotten Banana Awards: The 20 Most Unbearable Movies of 2006. Turns out I agree with a few of the choices and I must give them their props for coming up with creative categories.

For example, they gave the Pontius Pilate Award in the category of Worst attack on historical biblical truth to The Da Vinci Code. If we stuck to the historical truth of the bible women would still be second-class citizens, and slavery would still be an accepted practice.
While I didn’t see a movie called The Celestine Prophecy, I love this award title: The Shirley MacLaine Lunacy Award for Worst New Age adventure.
And, I agreed with this notion: Best Case for Closing the Borders Award, which goes to Borat for Worst American ambush comedy.
Here’s one that is a bit puzzling, even for war mongering rightists: the Benedict Arnold Award to Letters From Iwo Jima for Worst anti-American revisionist history. It’s an anti-war film you jackasses!
Not to mention the Socialist Fear Mongering Award that goes to An Inconvenient Truth for Worst Environmental hysteria documentary. Socialist? Environmental hysteria? What, you want New Jersey to fall into the ocean?
Of course I do applaud the Red State Slander Award with goes to Talladega Nights for Worst Ridicule of the Bible belt.

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The Dixie Chicks played it cool and humble, but they had to feel vindicated by the five Grammy Awards they took home Sunday night including Record of the Year, Song of the Year (for “Not Ready to Make Nice”) and Album of the Year (Taking the Long Way). While country radio had turned their back on the Chicks and the CMA and ACM award shows had been Chick-less as well, the Grammy community gave them a big “way to go Chicks!” with their five for five. The Chicks also won the Best Country Album and Best Country Duo or Group award.
Sporting a new brunette look, Natalie Maines claimed at one point that, “For once I’m speechless!” It was Maines who took a shot at President Bush before a concert in 2003, which led to a Chicks boycott on many country stations. Martie Maguire thanked their core fans for sticking with them and Emily Robison noted that without the controversy, this album would never have been made. Natalie Maines also quipped, “Now I’m ready to make nice.”

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Breaking News: Atlantic City received some props from Manhattan over the past 24 hours. First Alec Baldwin's character on the NBC comedy 30 Rock suggests a late night trip to the Borgata on last night's episode. Then, in this morning's New York Sun, columnist Alicia Colon writes (from her room at the Borgata) on "Atlantic City Reborn." "Spending a day or two in deluxe accommodations away from the hustle and bustle of the city can recharge one's batteries," Colon writes. "Try it. You'll like it." By the end of the year, Colon and her fellow New Yorkers should be able to take a direct train from NYC to AC.

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I can imagine the jokes that will be used by Jay, David and Conan on the late night talk shows, about female astronauts and PMS. The bizarre incident of Captain Lisa Nowak and her diaper-wearing 900-mile drive to “talk” with a perceived romantic rival, Captain Colleen Shipman, over fellow astronaut Cmdr. William A. Oefelein, is definitely out of this world wacky. Lisa brought will her for this little chat, according to the New York Times, “… a compressed air pistol, a steel mallet, a knife, pepper spray, four feet of rubber tubing, latex gloves and garbage bags.”

My first thought was how could someone this unstable pass the psychological testing that is supposed to weed-out whackos from the space program? Well, as it turns out, according to Nick Kanas, a professor of psychiatry at the University of California, San Francisco, who has studied astronaut psychology, the screening occurs only at the very beginning of the process. “We can screen out very serious stuff, but we can’t always predict the future,” Professor Kanas told the New York Times, and “people change over time.”
Ya think?
The era when astronauts were well known heroes has long since passed. Now Nowak has put the space program on the front burner of our thoughts and front pages of newspapers in a bad light. Even worse for those of us who once fought for the rights of women to break glass ceilings, she has send the progress of women in jobs once restricted to men back to the Stone Age.
I am trying to ready myself for the “raging hormone” jokes that will pepper the late night airwaves for the next few days.
Thanks a lot, Captain Nowak.

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