Happy Good Friday – unusually a bit about me …

It’s been seventeen years since this small, niche community has been on the web and people who I come into contact with at work and in real life often ask me
“So, why the Eurovision”?

Let me take you back to the heady days of May 1989 when this then 11 year old sat in his cabin bed and was mesmerised by the bright colours and singing of Western Europe. Long before I realised that I was a bit of a mincer, long before I realised that the company I kept defined the person that I am, something clicked in me. I didn’t see a Pan European televisual spectacular that has the technical brains of Europe still scratching their heads about how the rubber band doesn’t snap between X country and the rest of Europe, but I saw something that I liked. Foreigners singing, and then voting upon.

I didn’t get the voting thing I seem to remember (some things clearly never change), and I didn’t understand for years that there were 16 good people and true in a television studio going “ I like THAT one”, I didn’t get the so called political voting, I didn’t even get why Wogan was commentating, all I knew that it was FUN and the kind of thing I liked.

That’s the thing that’s stuck with me. Even through the “Dark period” of “Eireovision”, it shocked me that broadcasters wanted to be in this thing and keep it alive because, lets face it, as a concept it’s a bit pants. 40+ broadcasters PAYING to have substandard songs on my TV….. it wouldn’t get past the drawing board these days!
Good flaming job I still liked it through all of that because, 17 years later, a select handful of people read my website and listen to my team’s musings, I’ve been to places that hardly anyone ever gets to go to…………. And Oslo.

I’ve seen an ICBM come past my apartment window in Moscow, been to the ex-presidential palace in Belgrade and drunk things that were so psychedelic they were probably illegal, I’ve “won” a quiz and been in the Green Room in Malmo. I’ve got drunk on 50p per pint beer in Ukraine and made up a complete afternoon of rehearsals based on “ I’m sat outside getting pissed”.

I’ve got more involved in this contest than I thought possible, but it’s not all been fun and frolics. I still get accused of not being a “real journalist” – no, that’s true… but for the two weeks a year I need to be, 13 out of the last 15 times, my broadcaster says I am, and that’s all that counts to be honest. New media has meant that no, its not my profession, but I write more about this contest than the 250 words the Guardian wanted to write in 2009!

People also don’t like opinions, usually Spaniards to be honest, thankfully I have them in spades (opinions, not Spaniards). Dry, lifeless commentary are for those that are paid to have no opinion, as I’m not a real journalist, I can have them. See, it’s a double edged sword.

So, why do I like Eurovision? Because there is nothing quite like it. It’s humongous, it’s engaging, it’s provocative but not on the cutting edge of fashion. It’s the musical contest that you would buy in Grace Brothers and as long as it keeps going on, it’s the thing that makes me smile and write this shite.