Dolly was … well, she was Dolly. Rich, famous … and extremely carrying. A person could look at her life and see the template for what those in fortunate positions can do for those a little further down the ladder.
Parton didn’t believe in being held above others. Instead, she saw her own fame as an avenue to help others, most notably through her Dolly’s Imagination Library, that strove to get books into the hands of children nationally and internationally.
Though I didn’t know her or had met her, it was clear that Parton was approachable, that those painted into a corner by some groups should be allowed to live their own lives the way they wanted to. She believed that those in the LGBTQIA2S+ should be free to be who they are.
She sang across genres, producing one of the best duet stage performances ever when she paired with Kenny Rogers (who I have met. NAME DROP!) and then later in life performed with Judas Priest front man Rob Halford in all of his studded leather glory.
I never liked country music, though I could at times appreciate the talents of some country music artists, but the great thing about Parton is you didn’t need to be a fan of her music. It was so much easier to just be a fan of her.
Tim Curry is one of those actors that somehow just imparts their personality on you when you’ve never met the person. I first became familiar with Curry through two of his most outlandish and cherished roles, first as Darkness in the fantasy classic “Legend” and then as the gender-bending mad scientist Dr. Frank-N-Furter in “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” Both movies left an impression on me.
And there was “Clue,” a mad-capped romp that I will stop everything for if it’s on.
At the same time, however, there is that about Curry that could be found in connection to Parton. He didn’t seem to feel above anybody else. He was approachable and just seemed like the kind of person who always found time to talk, regardless of his social status.
I saw a meme on Facebook not long after he died that was something to the tune of “Tim Curry is like that uncle you see once a year, who slips you a $20 when nobody is looking and pretends not to see you sneak a cigarette out of his coat pocket.” That’s not exactly how it went, but you get the point.
Tim Curry was everybody’s cool uncle.
And there is Peter Cullen. For many, Peter Cullen may be faceless, however, to me he is the voice of a childhood hero that still resonates today. He was Optimus Prime.
Growing up, I was one of the millions of kids who were dealt the devastating blow of witnessing the death of Optimus Prime in “Transformers: The Movie.” Prime had been everything growing up — noble, heroic, caring. Seeing such a beloved character pass away before my eyes destroyed my tiny child mind.
Though a cartoon, the character of Optimus Prime was a model for what we all should be. A character who supported and defended those that maybe couldn’t stand on their own. Peter Cullen was Optimus Prime. His voice was everything the character required in a stalwart tone each episode, and like Parton and Curry, all accounts share the same ideal of a man who took time for others.
As a 51-year-old, I was somewhat surprised when I became choked up reading some of the laments on social media regarding Cullen. How he made a difference in those people who didn’t have fame in their corner.
These three people exemplified what it can be like if you have the means. You can show us your house, tell us about all your cars and flaunt what you are wearing all you want. Or, you could do something that leaves a mark on others that’s more than material possessions.
