Greetings! Cheerio! Tally-ho! Other annoying tourist-y sayings that will get me punched!

I have arrived in London, where I will be until Saturday, checking out the town and the whoop-dee-doo surrounding the Royal Wedding on Friday. (In case you haven't heard, Prince William is getting married. Probably you've heard.)

So far, I have to concur with those who have noted that London is not, in fact, in any particularly giant tizzy, as of 48 hours before the big event.

I'm pretty centrally located near the river, where I must admit there are a lot of people around. (Some of those those people occasionally do silly things. I think the folks who were inspired to simultaneously turn and take photos of the clock tower as Big Ben bonged away will really enjoy my audio recordings of the Mona Lisa.)

I think I have already walked through about four thousand people's photos (sorry, people!), but there is literally no way to get from one place to another except through people's photo opportunities. Not because of the wedding, but just because of London, I think.

Certainly, the little area where you wait in line for the London Eye is overrun, and there seems to be some spillover to nearby attractions like the Aquarium (I had the pleasure of hearing a kid say, "I KNOW where the Aquarium is, Dad — I'm a Jedi").

But other than souvenir shops, which are thick on the ground near me — I think I saw four during a two-block walk hunt for a blasted plug adapter after realizing I brought the wrong one — you wouldn't necessarily know that there's anything out of the ordinary happening this week.

Based on the enthusiasm on the part of American cable networks and syndicated entertainment news programs, I half expected to see the coffee places selling Royal Vanilla Lattes or some such, and while I'm sure there's some of that, I haven't seen much in my early travels around town. (Which were, I should say, more extensive than necessary owing to my freakish ability to walk the wrong direction in any situation in which I am forced to intuit whether I should go left or right, and screwing up is much more dangerous when you can't just cut in any direction at any time owing to certain geographical features of the local area YES THAMES I AM LOOKING AT YOU.)

On the other hand, in the souvenir shops ...

Earlier this month, I became the envy of my friends when I visited Dollywood, the theme park that Dolly Parton founded in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee in 1986. Upon reflection, I've realized that Dollywood is much like the woman herself. It presents many identities at once, meaning it can speak simultaneously to wildly different types of people.

Here are the Dollywood Identities I observed (as well as their corollaries to the actual Dolly Parton):

1. The Showstopper

On one level, Dollywood is just a really great amusement park. There are excellent roller coasters, a water ride, and several contraptions that swing you around in a circle. There are also live performances in theaters with names like Heartsong, The Back Porch, and Wings of America.

Like Dolly herself, then, the park can reach people who simply want to be entertained. You don't need an emotional connection to the woman or her fairground to enjoy what she's offering.

2. The True Friend

If you want a deeper connection, however, then you can find one. Or at least a flawlessly performed imitation.

Parton seems to please almost everyone. Gay, straight, Democrat, Republican: They've all endorsed her. Her appeal is at least partially defined by an aura of genuine affection for everything she sees. She always seems perky, engaged, and concerned, like she's ready to be your friend. (I don't even know the woman, and I want to invite her over for Baked Lays and Designing Women reruns.)

Inclusivity and kindness also run through Dollywood. Right at the entrance, there's a list of employees who have recently done something nice for park visitors, and four ride operators personally asked me about my day.

Meanwhile, the buildings resemble a rural mountain village, with Dolly's catchiest hits piping through the streets. Toss in the natural beauty of the surrounding Great Smoky Mountains, and the park emanates cozy charm. Sure, it's all been designed and perfected, but the result feels genuine.

Within that atmosphere, Dollywood blends multiple cultures with ease. When I visited, I saw both African musicians and banjo pickers playing in pavilions. I saw a '50s-style diner, a corndog stand, and a guy making Mexican food at a joint called PaPaw's Flat Bread. As he made fajitas, I thought I heard him say, "Everybody's welcome here."

3. The Winking Ironist

For urban sophisticates, it could be tempting to mock both Dolly and her park as a blend of cheap thrills and sentimental theatrics. But there's no need: Everyone's in on the joke.

If Dolly Parton only sang great songs and endorsed great charities, then I'd think she was fantastic. But since she's also got a sense of humor about herself, I love her beyond all reason. It's easier to trust her — to trust the emotion in her music and the messages in her causes — because she embraces her gaudy taste and fake eyelashes. (She's famous for saying, "It takes a lot of money to look this cheap.") Many celebrities refuse to acknowledge the phoniness that comes with being a public figure, but since Dolly owns it with good humor, she seems genuine.

Dollywood has touches of that humor, too. Take Chasing Rainbows, the park's interactive museum. It's less an egotistical shrine than a witty deconstruction of Parton's career. One exhibit allows you to take a picture of yourself and then digitally alter it to see how you'd look in Dolly's wigs. Another features a hologram of Dolly demonstrating the various machines she's used to get the fat off her thighs.

Even better, one of Dolly's tour buses is parked in front of the museum, with docents giving frequent tours. Just outside, there's a sign with standard warnings about not eating in the bus and not stealing things, but at the very bottom, in lovely mauve calligraphy set on top of a pink and white butterfly, the sign reads, "Management is not responsible for any sudden urges to wear rhinestones and flashy clothes."

Six Flags will never be that fabulous.

But again, Dollywood doesn't have to be a winking good time, any more than it has to be a straight-ahead theme park adventure or a heartwarming visit to a benevolent mountain community. It can be whatever we need it to be, and that's why it's so easy to love.