After she broke her leg skiing three years ago, McEntire, the Queen of Country, cut down on the costume changes and elaborate staging that had been a trademark of her shows in years past.

Instead, she toured with Country Kings, (Kix) Brooks and (Ronnie) Dunn, making her events a progress of country royalty, rather than eye-popping spectaculars.

Hey, King Kix does have a ring to it, doesn't it?

When she came to Copps Coliseum, Sunday night, Brooks and Dunn were still with her, she'd added Terri Clark and David Kersh to the roster, and then squeezed the pizzazz back into the proceedings as well.

She strutted and swayed in a superbly choreographed show in a little white skirt and boots, a long, sparkling blue gown and then black pants and shimmying top for the rest of the show.

She popped up on a stage in the middle of the audience, the band zoomed about on revolving and moving platforms and lights flashed and shifted in evocative patterns for every bar of music.

She had to squeeze all the pizazz back in, because, with half of Nashville on stage before her, she didn't appear until 10 p.m.

But she knows what she's doing.

After her "final" song, What If, that had Hamilton's Vox Nouveau Singers bopping behind her as backup vocalists, 12,500 fans stamped on the Coliseum risers until you'd think the things would collapse into dust.

So, out of the elaborate flashing lights and swirling spots appeared this huge, white, grand piano with Brooks at the keyboard. Then out comes Reba singing If You See Him. When the fans did see him, Dunn that is, coming down the stairs to make a duet of it, they went crazy.

Leave them yelling for more. It's the secret of showbiz.

Before that Reba had sung songs from the beginnings of her career, Long Nights, 'Til You Love Me, Why Haven't I Heard From You, right up to Forever Love from her new CD. Yes, she even did Does He Love You with the unbelievably beautiful Linda Davis, yet again.

Davis is amazing.

She must have been fashioned from the Cuisinarted dreams of all the lonely men in the world. What do they know in southwestern Oklahoma, that the rest of the world doesn't?

Brooks and Dunn also did everything expected of them, and they were the main attraction, I suspect, for only slim minority of the audience. Boot Scootin' Boogie screamed by with giant inflatable boots swaying, and they even had scantily-clad inflatable honky tonk dolls scootin' and boogeying too.

In such numbers and Honky Tonk Blues and Brand New Whiskey, the lads make you remember that all popular music comes from the soul of blues great Muddy Waters. With such ballads as Husbands And Wives, they remind you that the soul of country music is great lyrics that tell the truth.

Everyone agreed that David Kersh should be put into an asylum for the criminally cute or given his own TV soap, although Terri Clark said she could never make it with someone whose butt is smaller than hers, while growling over him lustfully. His trip through his hits, including Good Night Sweetheart, Day In Day Out and Something To Think about was high-energy fun.

But my favourite was Clark. She is a BAD GIRL and I just love her to death.

Black jeaned, black topped and black Stetsoned, she grooves like one of the guys and she's just outrageous.

"Where does Shania Twain keep her vital organs anyway?" she wanted to know. "I'm gonna have to starve for the next 245 days so I can just stand next to her at the next Canadian Country Music Awards."

This after telling us she didn't tread on Twain's dress on TV on purpose. "But if you wear a train 15 foot long what do you expect?"

Clarke will be at the next awards show for sure. She sang You're Easy On The Eyes, Better Things To Do and Emotional Girl, amongst others, and was just great for me, mainly because this was before sound levels became toxic. Why they sing love songs at 111 decibels beats me.

Right before the show, 820 CHAM's morning man, Cliff Dumas, got the keys to the city from acting-mayor Bob Charters and made the obligatory joke about changing all the locks.

Just don't give the thing to Terri Clark or we're all cooked.