I Will Always Love you, Dolly

I planned on quietly taking the month of August off, but Dolly Parton passed away today. So I'm dispensing with the usual Current Curiosities for some rough-draft thoughts on Dolly Parton's passing.

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Like many an Elder Millennial, I first encountered Dolly through mockery on the elementary school playground. It took me years to connect the buxom butt of juvenile jokes (sorry, team, I love alliteration) with the gorgeous, confident woman starring in Steel Magnolias and Straight Talk, my favorite sick day movies when I was a kid. (A baby homosexual!)

Also in elementary school, I begged my parents to buy me a copy of Dolly's Christmas album, though which one, I'm not sure anymore. I played that cassette until my blue My First Sony boombox irreparably ate the tape. I listened as I decorated my little bedroom Christmas tree. I rewound and re-listened as I studied spelling words and pretended to read. (I really hated reading. Sometimes I still do.) I fast-forwarded to favorites while making my Ninja Turtles and Barbies enact unorthodox Christmas stories. And while I don't remember the particular Christmas album, I remember the feelings of listening to it - joy and warmth and kindness. 

I'm sad my first impression of Dolly was through bawdy humor, though she seemed to be in on the joke, often being the first with a witty remark. And by beating others to the punch(line), she modeled being comfortable in your own skin. I'm glad my first impression of Dolly was challenged and complicated by her music and acting and generosity.

Later, I fell hard for her music while I worked toward a doctorate in English literature and navigated a hella toxic relationship and workplace. As I listened to "Here You Come Again" and "Dumb Blonde" and "Wildflowers" (with Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris), among others, I reflected on Dolly's optimism and strength. Dolly and her songs became a sort of life preserver during that time, a lifetime ago. Bittersweet memories, indeed.

When my grandma, who I've mentioned before, lost her sight, she traded her television for a record player. Dolly was the first record Grandma Gum requested (along with some truly bizarre 1960s Christian-country stuff). I love that Dolly is another connection between me and the Ol' Greek. We differ, however, on which is her best song. I'm firmly "I Will Always Love You," which I first heard via Whitney Houston and The Bodyguard soundtrack, but Caroline remains adamant "Coat of Many Colors" is the superior song. We're generational islands in the stream, I guess. 

Dolly was more than a signer, songwriter, and actor. She advocated for queer and trans communities and was an early ally during the AIDS epidemic. Dolly ensured children of every socio-economic background had access to books as a tribute to her late father, who never learned to read. And Dolly funded Moderna's covid-19 vaccine, saving an incalculable number of lives. What a human. We should all strive to be more like Dolly. 
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Honestly, I made it through the workday, but once I sat down on the couch and "I Will Always Love You" shuffled on and I let out a sob. What a woman. Dolly was and continues to be pure light and joy. And I will always love you, Dolly.

Thank you very much for your time. If you are interested in a consultation or have recommendations or curiosities, please fill out this nifty contact form.

Sending y’all supportive, well-caffeinated vibes,

Creighton 

Today’s Pen(cil): Pelikan M205 with Wearingeul Lee Yuk Sa

P.S. I hope Dolly and Whitney are kikiing up there and maybe, just maybe, duetting.