A+E

 
Jerry Springer the Opera. March 17, 18 at 1 p.m. $30-$75. MGM Grand. 891-7777.

(4 stars)

When svelte PR women are handing out face masks, you're in for a show. That's how Stardust Implosion '07 began: Dignitaries stood in a tent, nibbling on shrimp and dangling their soon-to-be-appreciated masks. In the background, teasing spotlights flicked at the 32-story Stardust, now a naked shell of itself, looking in dire need of a robe or an implosion or something.

It was 2:30 in the morning. An hour, presumably, when the obliterating boom of a building will be less of a spectacle. At least, that's been the theory with past implosions. But this one was clearly a show, as speakers blared Emerson, Lake & Palmer ("Welcome back, my friends, to the show that never ends"), buses transported crowds from the Orleans, wearing black-and-white Orleans windbreakers, and Bill Boyd's four grandsons pushed the plunger that started the fireworks that triggered the lighted countdown that galvanized the sparkling trails of pyrotechnic stardust that led to the explosion that brought down the famous building.

And then came the real dust. A curling cloud that covered the Strip in a thick, jaundiced pallor, coating cars and lungs and black-and-white windbreakers. The Stardust's final breath. A reminder that, while it's gone, the casino remains one with Las Vegas. Not to mention one with the lungs (ka-kack) of anyone near the implosion. Mask or no mask.

Shakespeare knew: March 15 is a dangerous date. Who knows what could happen!

At work, Casual Dress Friday will quickly degenerate into Drunk & Pantless Friday. A friend will comment on how your singing sounds like Beyoncé's. Later, you will learn he meant Beyoncé, the homeless woman who screams profanities at passing cars.

You will win a prize from a radio station where you are to be chauffeured around by a huge music icon for one glamorous night; the driver will turn out to be George Michael, drunk and asleep at the wheel.

When you arrive back home from dinner, you find that Angelina Jolie has adopted most of your children. You will be assassinated by some of your buddies when you declare yourself emperor of Rome. Your new idea to combine reality game shows, Dancing With the Smart 5th Graders, will bring you unwanted attention from NBC's Dateline: To Catch a Predator.

Your NCAA pool brackets will be ruined when all the top-seeded teams are defeated by a rogue Ultimate Fighting Champion who forces his way into the tournament. (Curiously, the NCAA will have no rule against this.)

Five odd moments from Monday's Rock and Roll Hall of Fame ceremony:

5 Jay-Z reading his induction speech for Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five off his PDA, pausing each time he scrolled.

4 Paul Shaffer sharing a congratulatory note from accused murderer Phil Spector after Spector's ex-wife, Ronettes leader Ronnie Spector, left him out of her acceptance speech.

3 Eddie Vedder hilariously suggesting drummer Bill Berry's brain aneurysm might have been caused by one of bassist Mike Mills' loud jackets during a rambling R.E.M. induction speech.

2 Patti Smith announcing she was going to perform the song her mother liked to play while vacuuming, then launching into a blistering version of 1978's controversial "Rock N Roll Nigger."

1 The Van Halen brothers—both no-shows (along with David Lee Roth)—leaving their band's legacy in the hands of two men left out of their latest reunion plans: Sammy Hagar and Michael Anthony.