Eurovision

For you American types who don't know, Saturday was the final of the Eurovision Song Contest. This is, apparently, a BIG deal. Forty-two countries enter, including several that are not actually in Europe. The scoring system is almost as complicated as tennis. This year's winner, Alexander Rybak from Norway:

Isn't he adorable? This video is from Norway's final. I'm sure there are a billion versions out there, but in this one he's not smiling so much. His big scary grin kind of gets on my nerves after a while. 

This year was my first time actually experiencing Eurovision. We had plans to celebrate with some friends of ours who live in one of the nice neighborhoods overlooking Sitges. However, my illness prevented me from moving more than a few minutes dash from our toilet. 

The partner, bless him, was so excited about viewing the contest he couldn't sit still. A pub, just a few doors down from the flat was celebrating Eurovision with a raffle and a 250 Euro prize for the person who correctly selected the top three acts. We decided to go. Or rather he decided to go wether I felt like it or not. He went down early to get a good seat in front of the big screen. Two and a half hours early. That's how excited he was. 

By the time I had loaded myself down with painkillers and was sure I'd have a while before the diarrhea kicked in again, it was still more than an hour before the contest, no one was in the bar (except the partner), and tennis was on the television. We sat for a while, cheering on Rafael Nadal and racking up tickets for the raffle.

Eventually a British couple occupied the table next to us. They had flown in to Sitges just for the night to watch the contest. Yeah, that's how important Eurovision is to some people (read here homos). Forms were distributed for scoring the acts. The bar began to fill as tennis ended and the preliminaries played on the screen. Then the show began. 

A brief summary of Eurovision for the uninitiated: Each of the 42 countries has a contest. One artist or band is selected to represent that country at Eurovision. Over several days the 42 are reduced down through quarterfinals and semifinals to 25. On the night of the final, all the artists perform in a big (very expensive) show. People from all the countries phone and text in their votes. You can't vote for your own country, but many do vote for their neighbors and allies. Also, there's some business with a group of people in each country who award points  to 10 entries (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, and 12 points) of their choice. The group points count 50% and the phone-in votes count 50%. And somehow at the end of this there emerges a winner. Simple, right?

ABBA's "Waterloo" won in 1974. Sandy Shaw won for "Puppet on a String" in 1967. Usually the winner has a silly pop feel. And nonsense words help as in Lulu's 1969 winner "Boom Bang-a-bang" and Teach-In's "Ding-a-Dong" from 1975.

Imagine the insane popularity of American Idol multiplied by 42 and concentrated into three or so days. 

We watched. We scored. Some of the songs were bizarre, some weird amalgam of pop and folk with awkward dancing and beaming smiles. Some were pretty standard fare pop with blatant borrowing from the likes of Skakira and Madonna. 

Once the performances finished there was a New Years Eve-style countdown to the end of phone voting. Then one by one the countries appeared on the screen to deliver their scores. Cheers went up as favorites received high scores. Boos also followed for countries that blatantly gave high scores to less gifted performances from neighboring countries. 

Norway, the obvious favorite, quickly pulled way ahead in the scores. I admit, I hadn't liked the video for "Fairytale" when I first saw it. But Rybak and his entourage's performance was stunning. And the song grows on you like a stomach virus. A couple of other songs I really liked didn't do as well:

and

And the entry from the U.K. was terrible. The performer had an amazing voice. She was immaculate. The song, however, was utter rubbish.  I think Joe. My. God. said it best:

Written by Andrew Lloyd Weber and Diane Warren, Jade Ewen's entry for the UK sounds more like a song justifiably cut from the second act of Wicked than the usual over the top Eurovision fare. Show queens will lurve it, of course.

And they did. That song scored very well. Others I though were pretty good didn't. But overall the evening was enjoyable. We (of course since we were there two hours+ early) won several of the drawing prizes. I have yet to use my handcuffs, but I'll convince the partner to try them out soon enough. Anyway, by the end I understood some of the excitement surrounding Eurovision. And yes, unless I'm spending my days on the toilet again, I can't wait to watch Norway host it next year.