In the end, there might be cockroaches and Cher, but there will definitely be Dolly Parton.

Here's why: She's been around forever, she's going strong today, and silicone doesn't disintegrate too readily.

Last night, Ms. Parton proved her long-lasting durability with a whopper of a show at the Bryce Jordan Center.

She emerged to "Hello, Dolly!" (as in the showtune) in a skin-tight, sparkly, pale blue number with sequins and feathers out the wazoo, hollered something like "Hello, I'm Dolly!"

Then for the next hour-and-a-half, she giggled, flirted with no one in particular and proved that she's more than the dumb blonde she's so fond of playing -- she's a dumb blonde with talent, and she ain't afraid to wield it.

Think of Dolly as the precursor to Jessica Simpson, except with a twang. And actual songwriting skills. And a career that's based on more than her confusion between chicken and fish.

It's based on soaring ballads like "I Will Always Love You," sassy pop tracks like "Nine to Five," twangy tunes like "Coat of Many Colors" ... and boobs, of course. Mustn't forgot those.

The Grascals opened up the night with some bearable bluegrass that falls somewhere between Kenny Chesney and David Rawlings.

The six-person group of homely looking white dudes sounded best while stomping out the instrumentals, but their harmonies weren't bad. Even got my tapping Converse sneakered toes along with the cowboy boots surrounding me.

Between the Grascals and Dolly, I decided to stroll the concourse level and check out my fellow patrons' fly gear.

Took in some cool hats and those ties that look like string, then I ran into some friends who I never knew were Dolly fans. Turns out they're not. They caught her on Oprah, decided she seemed like a "ball of fun" and resolved to see Ms. Parton perform live.

In one friend's words, "She's larger than life." Literally and figuratively.

In Dolly's words, "It costs a fortune to look this cheap."

As it turns out, Dolly's not just a singer, she's a comedian extraordinaire.

Between songs, she joked with the audience, warning us that if she pulled a Janet Jackson, she'd take out the first four rows.

I'm kind of sad that didn't happen.

She also shared some real heartwarming stories about growing up poor as one of 12 kids, and gosh-darn-it, just hoping to make it big in Nashville one day.

Dolly thanked us for making her smoky mountain dreams come true.

Coming from anyone else, this would have seemed like trite dribble, but for some reason, I truly believe this sweet old lady with five-inch red nails and five-inch stilettos.

Now for the roundup. What you're waiting for. What did she play?

Well, I'm not all that familiar with her catalogue, but she played all the songs I was itching for. Namely, "Nine to Five" (from that '80s flick she co-starred in) and "I Will Always Love You." Yes, as in the song that made Whitney Houston about a gazillion dollars. Dolly wrote that, so a lot of middle school dances owe her their respect.

She also played "Jolene," and up until last night, I had only heard The White Stripes' cover of that.

I still revere that sparse, screaming version, but when Dolly sang, "I'm begging of you, please don't take my man," it struck a chord that Jack'll never hit.

Other highlights include "The PMS Blues" (it's about what it says it's about) and the Elvis cameo (Las Vegas, chubby-cheeks-with-cape era) during a number I'm going to call "I Dreamed of Elvis Last Night," because try as I might, I can't find any records of this song existing. That number certainly walked the line between entertainment and surreal spectacle.

But then again, the whole show did.

It's pretty surreal when an indie rock snobbette finds herself clapping her hands and stomping her feet to the pure saccharin twang of a senior citizen with sequins on her guitar.

But then again (again), Dolly put on a real good show.

Better than, say, Cher?

Sorry sweets.