Its that time of year again. A glorious time when the whole of Europe rises up as one in order to celebrate our unity and creative vision. Oh yes, the Eurovision song contest is upon us.
Ever since leaving University (the first time) my friend Rob and I have made a tradition of meeting up and forcing ourselves to endure this unique form of light entertainment torture. Together we have sat through horrors such as the infamous Guildo Horn and our friendship has emerged the other side stronger; we are brothers in arms with a bond forged in the fire of ten years worth of musical train wrecks. The journey hasn’t been easy, and comrades have fallen by the wayside. But we shall never forget them; the names of Big Robby Goffe and Bryan will always ring in our hearts. This year looks like it will be particularly gruelling. Finland’s Lordi and our very own “Daz†Sampson look like they are going to be rather harrowing.
In order to share the pain we’ve decided to have a Eurovision party, or Eurofest as I like to call it. Unfortunately Kerry’s taking photos at a wedding that night, but myself, Rob, Anne, Paul and Becky have already signed up, and Craig and Dave are definite maybes. The fact that all these people have risen to the challenge means only one thing. I’m going to run out of chairs. Never-the-less, if anyone else fancies coming along they are more than welcome.
Over the years Rob and I have developed an ingenious scoring system by which to rate the various travesties flashing by on the TV screen. I regret that this is non negotiable, Rob and I have sweated blood in order to come up with a completely fair and balanced way of finding a deserving winner, and no newcomer is going to put their oar in and spoil its delicately calibrated perfection.
There are ten categories by which each country’s entrant is judged. Each category is assigned a maximum of ten points. These categories are totalled to produce a score out of 100. The entrant with the highest score receives our vital telephone vote which, lets face it, could swing the whole competition in their favour. The scoring is done as a group rather than individually and Rob is Grand Master of the Chart. The categories are as follows.
- Number of people on the stage
- Attractiveness
- Catchiness of the tune
- Use of Props
- Costume
- What the country did for us in WWII
- Choreography
- Ethnicness
- Freakshow factor
- Can Dan find the country on the map?
The party starts at 7:30 with a kick off at 8. Food will be provided, but bring your own booze. It is possible to sleep here, but it’ll be on the floor or the couch. Amy’s going to be with her grandparents at the same wedding that Kerry’s doing the photos for, and she’ll be sleeping out so noise wont be much of a problem.
Please come, I like to have the illusion that I have friends.
Greg and I are in! What day is it? And do you have about $5000 we can have for tickets? We’ll need to come first class air, of course.
In all seriousness, I’ve seen this show on some cable channel here in the States and it is truly bizarre. Hope you have a wonderful party!
I don’t know about the tickets but anyhtime you fancy a holiday in the North of England you’re more than welcome to use us as a base.
In the interests of veracity, I must point out that I missed the very first of these annual shindigs as I was unavoidably detained elsewhere. Eager to maintain face among friens, I ensure my street cred suffered only a small amount of denting, by listeneing to the whole thing on BBC Radio 2 instead.
Followed through link from your (de-spammed) comment. Great system. And who’d have thunk it about Lordi at the time, eh?
Where’s the score sheet when you need it? Looks perfect to me.