It was a darkened, murky sky that hung over Nashville, Tennessee this morning as word broke that music legend Dolly Parton had been pronounced dead at 10 a.m. Her body was discovered by housekeeper and close friend Lupita Del Puta. She was 71 years old. Parton had apparently been suffocated by her own breasts while attempting a head-stand yoga pose.
Parton had a bountifully robust career spanning decades, bouncing between hit country songs and film appearances. Her giant personal headlights firmly lit the landscape of American music, jiggling and heaving between soulful ballads and light, funbag pop songs. Parton literally paired up her talents into twin jugs of innovation and emotion, deeply ballooning her outlook into down-home America’s most fond mammaries.
As much as she functioned as a motorboat of talent drifting around country music’s big hard stream, massaging it with alternate frantic rhythmic vibration, or slowly warming our erect memories of tunes gone by with gentle, supple, pillow-humping care, Dolly Parton will remain forever bouyantly bobbling in our hearts. Tit’s the way she’d have wanted it.