Dolly
Parton is such sweet sorrow.
Even though she is universally beloved and ubiquitous, it's hard to explain to people younger than myself just how omnipresent and all-encompassing Dolly Parton was in the 1980s. She was the biggest musical artist, the biggest movie star, the biggest sex symbol, the biggest comedy star, the biggest personality, the biggest talk show guest, the biggest target of jokes. She was just the biggest. Period.
In our household, we were huge fans of both Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton, and the fact that the two of them had multiple albums and television specials together meant that they were a big part of our lives. At my mom's house we watched 9 to 5 regularly, and at my dad's house we had the Rogers stock car racing movie Six Pack pretty much on repeat. (An underrated movie if there ever was one. No, I'm not nostalgia poisoned, why do you ask?) At Christmas time, it was a requirement to watch our taped-off-of-CBS VHS of Kenny & Dolly: A Christmas to Remember.
Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton were, I now realize, my first parasocial relationships. Kenny was my second dad and Dolly was my second mom, and I pretty much thought of them as family. Their voices and faces were comforting, like a warm blanket.
As I got older, I loved them less intensely, but I constantly appreciated Dolly more and more. Her musical brilliance, her character, her incredible life story, and her boundless philanthropy. There's nothing I could possibly say about her that others couldn't say better.
I'm not entirely sure if everyone will be able to view the Bluesky post below, but it's a passionate and accurate encapsulation of the love and good that Dolly Parton spread in the world, and how she chose to invest in education and kindness instead of hate and egotism.
Garry
I missed Dolly the last time she played the Hollywood Bowl, and then missed her last tour. When she stopped touring regularly, I swore to myself that if she ever had another performance in California, I'd make sure not to miss it. I never got the chance, and I never got to see her in person. I hate that I never will.
The world got 80 years of Dolly Parton. We didn't deserve any of them, and we'll always wish we had twice as many. Think of her every time you tumble out of bed and stumble to the kitchen.
