Today sees the 60th anniversary of one the most unusual and puzzling phenomena of recent history.
A group of nations who normally only ever talk to each other in parliaments or conference tables on subjects ranging from fish to the shape of bananas suddenly start to, and I use this term loosely, sing at each other, first party poop there, as I said I used the term loosely.
The Eurovision Song Contest has defied taste and logic for 60 years, or has it?
My first memory is of the likes of Dana, Mary Hopkin, Vicky Leandros and of course ABBA. A time when the entrants at least tried to live up to the name of the contest and write or sing a song.
Yes there was a lot of naff then as well but those songs provided the entertainment, the novelty whilst the good songs fought it out for the judges vote, remember that? A judges vote? Not the public of nations who will inevitably vote for the neighbours or the country they go on holiday to or the country they want a loan from later in the year, the quality has gone.
I did warn you about the party pooper alert.
The contest is now a show to challenge who can be the loudest, strangest, in your face act on the continent, the song, remember the contest title? Takes second and even third place.
Boo I hear the visionites cry... But sadly if you take away the costumes and hype you'll know I'm right, and oh yes, take away the microphones as well... If they did that and brought music judges back even this party pooper might watch again... I did say might.
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