I’m not really sure when we started watching Eurovision. It’s become a “thing” that we do each year - setting the evening aside with a few drinks and some food to enjoy the various countries performances.
I’ve had to describe “Eurovision” to a few friends in the US over the years, and it’s been difficult to relate just how big it has become - especially to people living in a country that has become increasingly insular in recent years. I typically end up comparing it to the Superbowl - the audience for the live Eurovision broadcast typically far outstrips the Superbowl, and is not only shown but voted for across all the nations taking part.
The funny thing? We (the United Kingdom) never expect to do well - but that’s not really the point of it all. For me, it’s an opportunity to see people from perhaps 25 different countries (nearly 40 if you include the semi-finals) singing, having fun, and presenting the best version of themselves, and their culture - whatever and whatever that may be.
I was surprised to see a conversation on Facebook this year - between an old school friend and his friends - trashing Eurovision, and everything it promoted. Apparently it is “woke”, “gay”, and a number of other predictably derogatory terms. After posting a photo of the drinks and snacks on our table, and the show unfolding in the background, the ring-leader of the “it was better in my day” brigade reacted with a “wow” emoji.
Yes. Wow. I was almost in disbelief at how small-minded some people have become - or how deaf they have become to their own prejudices. What harm is really being done by a “competition” (it’s really not a competition) that champions differences?
As you can tell - it riled me somewhat.
I love that we come from different countries, have different histories, perhaps different genders, values, and prejudices - but that we are also so similar. I love that a song in a foreign language by a stranger can elicit an emotional response. It’s kind of wonderful really.
We drank far too much, and ate far too much while scoring each act on no more scientific basis than “I think they’re great” or “maybe not…”
My other half rapidly gathered that as long as a given act involved a pretty ladies in sparkly dresses, I would forgive quite remarkable absences of talent. I countered that she seemed to judge the half-dressed male acts in a similar manner.
I made it half-way through the voting (after having drunk far too much wine) before falling asleep on the sofa - and got prodded by an elbow. “Go to bed”.
I checked the news early this morning - and discovered an outcome that flew in the face - rather happily - of what I thought might happen. Given recent events in the news, I wondered if particular countries might be shunned by the public vote. I was happy to see that people can still separate politics from the arts - and can still support somebody putting the best version of themselves forwards - regardless of what chaos and mayhem may be going on in their home countries.
I think perhaps that’s what I’ve always loved about Eurovision, and continue to love. For me it’s an escape - a leveller. It’s about our common love of music, and at the end of the day each other - because without each other, we wouldn’t have anything to sing about.