Campaign '08: The Dolly Parton Factor

I was barely awake on Sunday morning when I received the news: Dolly Parton had rescued the opening night performance of the stage version of 9 to 5 from near certain disaster.

I wasn't the least bit surprised.

Here are the details: Dolly, who's adapted the hit 1980 film (one of my favorites) for the stage, was just one of dozens of A-listers in the audience for the show's world premiere at LA's Ahmanson Theater on Saturday night. The glitterati included the film's co-stars Lily Tomlin, Jane Fonda and the incomparable but underrated Dabney Coleman. (I followed Coleman's successful battle with macular degeneration with close attention.) Also in attendance were Jason Alexander, Blythe Danner and the star of HBO's In Treatment Gabriel Byrne. (Byrne's recent performance as King Arthur in Camelot was so bizarrely morose, it sent half the audience into treatment.)

Everyone had settled into their seats. Cell phones were silenced and the chatter subsided as the overture swelled and the curtain rose on a stunning set. The show got off to a delightful start and Dolly was beaming. It looked like another plume in the headdress for country music's "Iron Butterfly." (Dolly is far too colorful for a simple feather in a cap.) Though Dolly and Carl, her notoriously press shy husband of 42 years, have no biological children of their own, it seemed clear to theaterwatchers that Dolly was carrying the next Broadway hit. (Call it her Broadway Baby Bump.)

Then, fifteen minutes into the show, it happened. The curtain descended. Dropped without warning. At first the audience thought it was intentional -- some sort of avant-garde directorial stunt. Partonologists knew better: Dolly has never engaged in or endorsed gratuitious tricks or fads. No, something was wrong here. Then came the shocking news via the PA system: the show would be delayed for a "few minutes," due to "technical difficulties."

Readers of this blog know that I have long worshiped Dolly Parton. This fourth of twelve kids born to a dirt poor East Tennessee family has defied every expectation, not only in the world of music, where she's topped country, bluegrass, gospel, pop and adult contemporary charts -- but also in film with fantastic performances in both 9 to 5 and Steel Magnolias. (Her one dud was Straight Talk, in which she played a conversion therapist talk show host who "turns" gay callers straight.)

Is she a singer who writes songs? A songwriter who acts? An actress who produces? A theme park proprietress who gives away tons of money to charity? She is all these things -- and more. Not just a star, but a constellation.

What makes her so appealing, beyond her astonishing talent, is her overwhelming - and undeniablly authentic - spirit of generosity. She embraces her audience completely -- religious and non-religious, black and white, gay and straight, Hutu and Tutsi. Does that Sneetch have a star on its belly? Dolly couldn't care less. There's not even a hint of judgment in her persona. Dolly isn't post-partisan. She's trans-partisan (though her audience includes a multitude of partisan trannies.) Dolly is a philosophy.

And, almost without exception, she's an original. I say "almost" because of one teeny tiny blot on her record:

As much as I love Dolly, I am equally devoted to Loretta Lynn. She ranks as my favorite Kentuckian. (Tied with Abraham Lincoln.) Loretta's hit single "Coal Miner's Daughter" is a religious experience for me. As a rule, I never stop it in the middle of play. And I certainly never chit chat when it's on. How much do I love this song? I've instructed the executor of my will to have it played during my funeral!

Dolly's "Coat of Many Colors" (1971) is a brash and transparent reaction to "Coal Miner's Daughter" (1969). Dolly may as well have titled her song "I'm Poor, Too!!" I'm sorry, Dolly, that your mother had to sew rags together for a coat. But in the summertime, Loretta "didn't have shoes to wahr"! Simply put, "no shoes" trumps "no coat" on the poverty scale.

And yet this proves that Dolly is human. And while she loves us for our flaws, we love her for hers. She is self-deprecating (especially on the subject of her multiple surgeries) yet manages to be supremely dignified. The rest of us can only aspire.

Which brings me back to the Ahmanson. The audience was still reeling from the news of the "technical difficulties" when Dolly bounded up onto stage and impromptu began performing! As KTLA reported:

As the minutes dragged on and on, a clearly restless audience was cheered when Parton stood-up right from her seat in the middle of the theater and said; 'If they can't perform the show, I'll do some of it from right here.' Parton then proceeded to lead the entire audience in a sing-a-long version of the title song '9 to 5.' That number drew a rousing ovation from the crowd; but the delay wasn't done and neither was Dolly.

Audience members could hear construction equipment like power drills and saws at work while Dolly continued to charm the audience with a talk about the origins of the musical show; as well as introducing her '9 to 5' film co-stars. As the delay continued, Parton offered to take questions from the audience; and then asked if the audience would like for her to sing another song; 'I Will Always Love You.'

Eventually the scheduled show resumed and ended with an extended standing ovation!

Dolly didn't just display good old-fashioned showmanship. (Can you imagine any of today's strumpets-parading-as-talent responding in this way?!) She demonstrated leadership. She assessed the situation, then swung into action. What's more, she acknowledged that there was a problem. Rather than bury her head in the sand, she said, before singing "I Will Always Love You": "Maybe I'll wait, in case things get screwed up again and I have to fill more time."

This is the kind of deliberate, rational crisis management we need in our next leader. So I ask you:

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