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Now we stood in another short hallway, only about six or eight feet long. At the end of it sat two chairs against the wall and open hallways leading to the left and the right.

We turned and smiled at each other, knowing this was an important place. I sat down on one of the chairs and looked to the right and then to the left. On the right was a door with the name "John Cardi" on it. On the left, "Headliner."

"Oh, boy," I said to Barbara, who paced around too anxious to sit. "This is the place! When you open a door, you REALLY open a door."

She laughed.

A moment later, one of Taylor's personal assistants came down the hallway from the right, greeted us, and said, "Nice to see you. Please, feel free to go into the hospitality room, have a drink. There's food and all kinds of refreshments for you."

Barbara and I just looked at each other and nodded.

"Thanks," Barbara said and stepped into the doorway of the Hospitality Room.

Suddenly, the air in the hallway stirred as if bombarded by a stroke of lightning and around the corner strode Ms. Taylor Dayne. She paused in front of me, made deep and exact eye contact, smiled a true and genuine smile, and said, "Hello. Nice to see you."

"Hi there," I replied.

Whoa, I thought. It was as if she knew who I was. (Yeah, right, I laughed to myself.) But, she gave me the feeling of sincerity when she greeted me.

Barbara stepped back into the hallway, just as Taylor opened the door to her private dressing room. She saw Barbara out of the corner of her eye and stopped. She leaned against the door jam, grinned another one of those genuine, affectionate smiles, and giggled. "Hi BaaarrrBaaaRaaaa."

"Hi, Taylor," Barbara giggled back.

"See you soon," Taylor said, and disappeared inside her dressing room.

Taylor's assistant, Kathy, approached and took us into the Hospitality Room. "Please, make yourself comfortable. Taylor will be with you in a few moments."

We flopped into the two nearest chairs, and at the same time, remembered we hadn't eaten all day long. Without a word, Barbara dove for a bottle of orange juice and downed it in a single gulp. I grabbed a pop and quenched my own parched thrist.

The Hospitality Room was about twenty feet by twenty feet. Most of the walls were mirrored. The wallpaper was a green-flowered print. Counters lined the edges of the room. Trays of fresh vegetables, dip, fruit, crackers, cheeses of more varieties than I've ever seen, bottles of spirits, and just about every kind of juice, pop, coffee, teas, even Donald Trump's own brand of bottled water were all laid out for the invited's consumption.

Marveling at the dozens of cheeses artistically arranged on a large platter, I reached out and sampled a few chunks. Barbara opened a second bottle of orange juice. Suddenly a tall, big-built, handsome man, appeared in the doorway. He came up behind Barbara, laughed and said, "Honey, it's good to have you here, but please, next time, you gotta call before the day of the show."

Barbara laughed and turned around. "Hi, Joe. Good to see you."

Joe leaned over Barbara and extended his hand toward me. I stood up and shook his hand. Joe has a real handshake, a sincere and friendly one, not one of those forced limp things that men often give women. "Nice to meet you," I said. "I'm Laurine Ark. Thank you for all this."

"Hey, we wanted to do more. And we will. Just next time, please, try to get a hold of me sooner. There's so much more we could have done. But you did see the show, right?"

"From the lighting booth," I said. "Best seat in the house."

"Taylor will be out in a few minutes. You can see if she wants to answer a couple of the questions. The majority of them, though, she'll have to answer later. I've got to go get some people," Joe said. "I'll talk to you more later."

Suddenly, the room filled with people, all talking. There were men in four thousand dollar suits, women in designer dresses, and lots of blue jeans. I felt the temperature rise and fought sweat from forming on my back. Lots of hands were shook. Lots of gold chains and bracelets.

Liz approached and said, "Good. You found your way back."

I heard Joe's voice from the hallway. "Come on, kids." He escorted at least a dozen young men and women to the hall outside Taylor's dressing room. Then he re-appeared, put his hand on Barbara's shoulder and said, "We'll try to get some questions in," and went back into the hallway.

Zhana and Vivian entered the Hosptiality Room and began introducing very important looking people to other important looking people.

I ate more cheese.

10:00 p.m. now. I heard someone speaking in a foreign language across the room.

Zhana left the room. Without a second thought, I jumped up. "I have to go talk to the Backup Singers for a minute, " I told Barbara and followed Zhana down the hall.

Zhana opened the door to her dressing room and stepped inside just as I excused myself. "Hi. I'm Laurine Ark. You did a great job tonight."

"Thank you." She smiled and shook my hand.

I explained that I was working on an interview for Taylor's website, and that I thought part of the story included everyone in the band.

Zhana agreed to talk to me. I stepped inside her dressing room and she closed the door.

We talked about Zhana's love for music and the privledge she feels being able to work with Taylor.

"This is my first gig with Taylor. I met her through Vivian. Before that I did backup for PM Dawn, Mary J Bilge, Bon Jovi...."

We talked about her dedication to the show....after all Zhana had learned her whole part in one week.

"I have to earn my stripes," she told me. "Taylor's a real hard driver. No nonsense. She wears a lot of hats."

"Sounds exciting," I interjected.

"It is. Taylor knows all of her steps, and ALL of ours. She is on top of everything. And I like it this way!"

"That's a good thing."

"Sure is! It makes us better!"

Vivian Sessoms, one of Taylor's long-time backup singers entered the dressing room.

I went through my spiel again. Vivian smiled and said she'd love to talk to me.

All the right doors sure were opening up tonight, I thought to myself.

Vivian met Taylor in 93-94 and she's done other tours with The Great Dayne.

"Taylor remembers every note, every word, every staging entrance, exit, costume change...she is the consummate professional," Vivian told me. "I have a lot of respect and admiration for her, in many ways. She is constantly putting out hits.

She knows her direction. She writes many of her own songs. She has a fantastic voice. The new album is the best. Heartfelt. It's a new direction. Taking chances. I applaud her."

Vivian and Zhana ("It's just Zhana," she said, in case any of you were wondering) proved they are professionals, from their performance capabilities to their impeccably perfect hairstyles.

I hung around with these two beautiful, talented, courteous, and all around sweet girls while they packed and we oogled over Taylor together. When I thought I'd best leave or wear out my welcome, I said my thanks and headed back to the Hospitality Room.

"Where were you?" Barbara asked me.

I motioned her forward. "Get your camera."

I took her to the girls' dressing room, knocked on the door, and introduced the

great artist who does Taylor Dayne portraits.

Zhana and Vivian drooled over Barbara's talent, and said in unison, "Will you do our portraits?"

Barbara smiled humbly and we took pictures.

10:15 p.m. Taylor stood in the hallway right outside her dressing room, meeting important people. I guzzled down another pop and tried to get my eyes to focus from all the bright flashes of cameras going off. Barbara talked to Kathy and Liz, Taylor's personal assistants.

"Excuse me. Do you know what kind of cheese that is?" A soft voice whispered from the crowd of people milling around our seats.

I looked up. "Oh, my God," I sighed. "You look a lot like Taylor Dayne," I said to the beautiful, curly-haired young woman.

She laughed and leaned across my chair for the cheese tray. She took a piece of gouda.

"Barbara," I said. "Look at this beautiful woman, doesn't she look like Taylor?"

"She sure does," Barbara smiled.

"I get that a lot. Do you mind if I sit down?"

I hopped up and pulled over a chair.

"Hi," I introduced myself and Barbara, and explained why we were there and about the website.

"My name's Lisa. I'm a friend of Taylor's. An old friend. We've known each other since high school." Lisa's graciousness was only outweighed by her stylish femininity.

I heard Taylor giggling with her fans in the hallway as Barbara and I talked with Lisa, ate cheese, and did a lot of giggling ourselves when Lisa reminisced about adventures and outings with The Great Dayne.

Suddenly, the air in the room shifted again. I could feel the aura of The Diva as she glided into the room. Taylor headed straight for the three of us.

"Say hello," she said to Barbara and threw her arms around Barbara's neck.

"Hello Taylor." They hugged.

"Hi, there," Taylor said. She leaned over and hugged me.

"Nice to meet you." I introduced myself, but it seemed redundant.

"Move over I'm getting old," Taylor said to Barbara and perched herself on Barbara's lap. "Make some room for me here."

We all broke out into laughter.

I looked around for an empty chair. There was one nearby, so I got up and drug it over for Taylor.

"Thanks," she said.

In this crowded room full of fans and dignitaries, there I was in a tight little group, experiencing what will always be one of the highlights of my life. Taylor and Barbara sat across from me, Lisa sat on my right. I tried to jot down notes and participate in the conversation.

I studied this sweet, sensitive, sparkle of light with the voice of an angel as she spoke. She wore blue jeans that made her legs look longer than they are, a long-sleeve black cashmere sweater, leather sandals. Green flourescent polish glistened on her toenails, her fingernails painted with colorless, shiny polish. Taylor's complexion was clear, her face free of any makeup, only the residue of deep red lipstick remained on her mouth. A natural, earthy beauty shone through. Her smile was welcoming, and I believed she really wanted to sit there in that space, in that time, and be with us.

Just as she began to really relax, put her feet up, and talk girl talk, one of her assistants interrupted.

"Can you come and say hello to Joe's family?"

"Yeah, sure." Taylor straightened up, walked across the room, and bestowed hugs, smiles, and laughter on the lucky group.

Barbara, Lisa, and I simultaneously dug into our pockets and purses for a cigarette and lit up. We talked a little about the questions I hoped to ask Taylor, and laughed at some of the funny ones.

Taylor returned after a few minutes, refreshment in hand.

"Get rid of the smokes, guys," she scolded us. "Or I can't sit here."

Never in the history of this planet have three cigarettes been extinguished faster.

"I'm tired, I need to sit." Taylor relaxed into her chair again and put her feet up. She talked about two shows she was going to do in the LA area, an AIDS benefit in San Francisco, and a trip to the UK in a few weeks.

A few short interruptions from people and old friends wanting to say Great Show or a Good Night to Taylor prevented me from starting my actual 98 Questions interview, but she didn't leave her chair. Lisa and I ate more cheese and Barbara munched on bell peppers. Taylor handed Lisa her empty glass and asked for a refill, making sure it contained a fresh slice of lime and Canada Dry Ginger Ale. They laughed and smiled with the gentle rapport of an old and deep friendship.

Then Taylor turned all her attention back to our group, adjusted her feet, and slumped down in her chair.

"What should I tell people when they ask me if that tatoo is real?" I asked.

"Ah," she laughed. "Yeah, tell them it's real."

"Okay." I made a note. "If you're ready, I'd like to ask you a few of the questions that were submitted on line."

"Great, shoot."

To Learn more about Barbara Baldwin and her art, visit the following sites: