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| Bebe Rexha & Dolly Parton (on my current playlist) |
We were attempting to get to know each other better, and he asked, "what kind of music are you into?" That was a mistake. I'm terrible at small talk. I suspect many people would say, "oh I like almost anything" or "Not jazz" but... music is just too paramount within me for any definitive synopsis. (I've written about my playlist before.)
I'd compare musical tastes to explaining how one falls in love. How do you articulate those highly personal and abstract and fervid whatabouts? Intangible notions that sometimes trigger love at first sight or maybe bit by bit and then suddenly all at once. For me, music (the arts) is the lifelong love: my first love, a love longer than all the other loves. Lonely (Gen X) kids found love where they could. My early loves were all in books and on the radio and TV.
Anyway, we had a bit of a meandering conversation; I tried to explain that the music I like is not just about the genre, or performer, or time period—it depends on the songwriting, the personal connection, and the self-expression. It's a relationship. He considered this, and asked one last question, "so, you like Dolly Parton then? I said, "absolutely." Suddenly, we understood each other! It's true: Dolly always has a way of bringing people together.
Today I'm thinking about 1970s childhood me sitting on the floor in front of the TV watching Dolly perform, feeling connected, and yes, it was love at first sight. (She was like my cousins' dolls.) But it was also her trademark self-deprecating humour, her warm neighbourliness, her sincere optimism and over time, her incredible generosity and humanity. Today, I am also remembering some other members of my childhood TV family: Mork (Robin Williams), and John Candy. Sigh.
If music is indeed like love, this week our sorry world lost love personified. Nevertheless dear friends, notice (and don't forget) that even after this world-wide collective grief fades, Dolly will always be the answer to many of life's most challenging questions.
You are deep.
ReplyDeleteHa, like I said: not good at small talk.
DeleteWho will fill Dolly's shoes? I can think of no-one.
ReplyDeleteA sad truth, but nature loves a vacuum, so maybe nature is working on this. Fingers crossed.
DeleteFor Dolly to go ... oy, that one hurts. -Kate
ReplyDeleteIt really does.
DeleteDolly was love personified, and I'm not being the least bit corny in saying that. She was perhaps the only person I can think of on who we call could agree. She surely earned her rest. And this post brought back memories of a particular era, books and songs on the radio, evoking entire inner worlds. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThank you and thank goodness for Dolly (and for inner worlds).
Delete*about whom we all could agree (I really should proofread)
ReplyDeleteIt's encouraging that this happens to you too as I know you are a fine writer/editor/reviser.
DeleteI am learning so much more about Dolly's life and her achievements. What a wonderful woman. A legend.
ReplyDeleteSuch a touching post, DB. For those of us who grew up finding comfort in the radio, books, and the glow of the TV screen, artists like Dolly felt like chosen family.
ReplyDeleteYou articulated that intangible bond with songwriting and genuine human spirit so eloquently. Her humor, immense heart, and limitless generosity set the standard for what it means to put love into the world. Dolly truly remains an enduring beacon through all of life's noise.