I was sad to learn of Dolly Parton’s death too. Just like, so it seems, every single person I have ever known. I spent 20 minutes on Instagram on Tuesday night – not technically great reportage but enough to collect some valuable “anecdata” – and was inundated with outpourings of grief, love, admiration and other such histrionic feelings for the US singer.

Who knew everyone was harbouring this secret but passionate devotion to Parton? To country, bluegrass and pop?

Fair enough, there is an awful lot to like. The young Appalachian kid born in a cabin in Tennessee takes on Nashville and then conquers the world, the chart list and the hearts and minds of the US. It is the stuff of Hollywood fantasy. And then there is the philanthropy with the Dollywood Foundation which gave out college scholarships and helped Tennessee teenagers complete high school, and now dispatches books – 40 million last year alone – to children in the US, Canada, Australia, the United Kingdom and Ireland.

The songs are great and her look was totally sui generis. Most impressively, perhaps, Parton – a devoted Christian who spoke in the twangiest of Southern accents – managed to float above partisan politics. She was loved by traditional conservatives, progressive leftists and every constituency in between. And – if my jaunt........

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