Eurovision

    Normally, in Canada, Eurovision just passes me by.  Or rather, the Eurovision of today goes largely unnoticed.  Thanks to Mark's Youtube habit, the winners of Eurovision past occasionally make an appearance in my apartment, which means I could be awakened any given morning by Abba or France Gall or this classic piece of ESL nonsense from Dutch winners Teach In.  For those of you unfamiliar with the Eurovision, it's a song contest kind of like American Idol, except instead of changing it up each week with themes like an Ashley Simpson retrospective or Songs Hillbillies Like, the contestants, who represent the creme de la creme of their European home country, sing the same song week after week for different judges and audiences.  After a series of regional, national, half, semi- and top ten finals, the winner is crowned and the song is exported to America in hopes that it will actually become a hit.
    This year, in Stuttgart, I could probably have skipped the whole Eurovision experience, if I had stopped reading magazines, listening to the radio, going grocery shopping, or watching Germany's version of ET! every day at 17:15.  (okay, I probably could do without the last one).  But, in my local grocery store, there was a large sign warning me that if I did not have enough delectable snacks, my Eurovision party would be a failure.  And this year, the stakes are high in Germany.  Number one: Germany is hosting at least part of the final series of finales in Dusseldorf.  Number two: the reigning Eurovision queen is a German by the name of Lena.  So, watching Eurovision is kind of like a national duty.
   So, in the name of cultural immersion, I watched the half finals on Tuesday.  I sat through 20 musical performances from European countries, quasi-European countries like Turkey, quasi-countries like the city-state of San Marino, and decidedly non-European states like Azerbaijan and Armenia.  How most of them ended up winning the chance to compete beyond their local pub karaoke night is beyond me.  I guess San Marino has an excuse - per capita, how much talent can they really have? (answer: not much).
But, the off-key Mariah Carey yodels, the 2000-era rap-rock, the English lyrics hot off Google Translator - it reminded me more of a high school talent show than an international competition.
   That being said, one group really got it.  The Portuguese entry, La Luta e Alegria, was performed by 6 men and women dressed up as the communist revolutionary version of the Village People, marching on the spot, waving signs in the air, and singing very emphatically about something in Portuguese.  Yes, it was more school play (or Godard movie) than future club hit (here's looking at you Ell & Nikki from Azerbaijan), but at least they didn't try to be Lady Gaga in a cheap wig.  And, even though it probably doesn't have much crossover appeal because it's in Portuguese and sounds like a children's song, at least I didn't have to waste my time trying to figure out what they thought they were saying in English.
Image credit: vorwaerts.de