PTown Diary Day Three: It's Raining Men

The atmosphere grows as thick as the crowds as the day of Carnival approaches. You’re either working on your costume, working on your tan, or working on your next ex-boyfriend.

While everyone else sleeps, it’s a great time to get up, stroll to Joe for a great cup of coffee and people watch, then head across Commercial Street to the Crown and Anchor pool for a dip, a sip and a moment of respite in the sun.

If you have a boyfriend you want to show the city to in grand style, one of the best ways is to get him to laugh. Dina Martina (pictured above with my guy) is just the ticket. She’s wicked funny, a great songstress and packs more laughs into an hour than most of the writers do at Saturday Night Live. She’s a national treasure.

One of the highlights of the week was the ’80s dance (because the theme this year is “Back to the ’80s”) at Town Hall. Monday, I was promised an interview with the great Martha Wash, who sang “(You Make Me Feel) Mighty Real” behind Sylvester, was half of the Weather Girls of “It’s Raining Men” fame, and had her voice added to “Everybody Dance Now” for C+C Music Factory and numerous other hits. Show up at 6:30 Wednesday, I was told. I did. “Martha’s finished sound check and she’s headed back to the hotel now to get pretty. Come back at 7 p.m.” I did. “Martha’s resting now,” but come back after the show at 10.” I did. Here voice is very much intact, and the audience adored her.

Her handler told me as she was making herway out of her dressing room that he was taking Martha back to her hotel. I stuck my hand out and said, “You were terrific tonight. I was promised a few minutes with you for an interview.” Shaking my hand rather reluctantly, her comeback was, “Who told you that?” I said it came from the organizer of the event. “I don’t know who that is. You have to talk to my manager.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked out the door.

I asked the fellow who put the night together, and he told me he’d been promised the interview could and would happen. I asked him what I should write, and he said, “You should write what she told you.” So I did.