All hell's a-coming..

Wikipedia states that: "In the 1950s, as a war-torn Europe rebuilt itself, the European Broadcasting Union (EBU)—based in Switzerland—came up with the idea of an international televised song contest, to be transmitted simultaneously to all countries of the union. This was conceived during a meeting in Monaco in 1955 by Marcel Bezençon, a Swiss working for the EBU. The competition was based upon the existing Sanremo Music Festival held in Italy, and was also seen as a technological experiment in live television(…)"

The competition in question is, of course, the Eurovision Song Contest a.k.a Eurosong, referred to as Melodi Grand Prix (MGP) in Norway. This may sound a bit odd to outsiders, but in Europe this contest has a very special place. It isn’t usually established pop/rock groups that participate but more often than not soloists revered by the inner circles of the Norwegian music industry. That’s why you’ve never heard about the "stars" until you see them on TV and are asked to vote for them. Usually, it also means that the music is less than interesting, sub par and wholly forgotten a year later. But we all like the extra glamor that always accompanies the show. Nothing’s too much.

Things have changed, though, and this year’s winner Alexander Rybak is a very talented guy. Even I must admit this, having heard him play and sing beautiful classical songs as well as Dream by The Beatles at a private party. Not to mention that his winning song Fairytale is a great pop tune in terms of rhytm, finesse and impact, as well as having been written entirely by Alexander himself. Alex is a quote unquote friend of the family, which is why we must keep this thing on our fridge:

Text to Lady C says: "Listen to your father; vote for me!"
And before you comment on the fridge magnet, the caption reads: "Grow some balls or GTFO!"

So the finale on Saturday was held in Moscow, and Norway won with hundreds of points down to 2nd place and sat a new record for the most 12-pointers in a row in MGP history. Great! But you wouldn’t be reading Sigg3.net unless you were expecting some kind of grumpy, selfish moaning from an ill-fated, grouchy lumberjack slash hacker gone boyfriend.

Because even though the victory places Norway firmly on the map, as we say in Norway (despite the fact that the earliest known placement of Norway on the map was back in ancient Greece and earlier), it also means that next year’s MGP circus is going to be hosted by and somewhere in Norway. And having intimate ties with the Eurosong mob through C’s family relations, I fear I’ll have to spend even more time listening to pop tracks, shake hands and smile. We’ve already been "booked" for a dinner this week, and I’m expected to walk around and be nice to people I’m supposed to know who the hell is. Which just isn’t my thing. I’m not a party breaker but these parties have their own hidden agendas and sets of rules. You can read my short-story 120 Minutes in Sodom for some inside view of what it’s like. Thank God I’m not a celebrity! But don’t wanna be the entourage either! And next year, all hell’s a-coming..