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I'm setting here at the end of a day mainly spent inside our flat with Him Indoors and DB1 and DB2. We have not yet been told to stay home by the government, but let's just say, so many things are closed it is barely worth going out, and we have been advised by them that that may be for the best. I don't want this to be another doom and gloom post, so I have chosen a light-hearted thing to write about, which I will get to, I promise.
Obviously, it has been something of a weird day, ended with a sobering announcement of how fast the virus is spreading in my dear homeland, particularly London, the city I called home for nearly 10 years before we moved here.
While this is not a cheery subject I have chosen to take over this blog for the time being, I really do not want this to be a total misery fest, so today, children, we need to talk about the fact that Eurovision has been cancelled this year.
I heard this news a little later than most, today, on the BBC's Coronavirus Newscast, which some of you may well know, is a daily podcast on the virus-related news of the day, which features the same team as Auntie's mega juggernaut of a podcast Brexitcast, with added scientists and experts. It is a good listen, and manages, for the moment at least to occasionally be light-hearted.
Today, Adam Fleming, who has returned from his post in Brussels to work for the BBC in London, announced with Radio DJ Scott Mills that Eurovision, yes Eurovision, is cancelled this year, something that, obviously, has to happen, putting thousands of people from all over the continent in a stadium together to watch bands from all over the continent perform would basically be some kind of madness. I am sure a fair few of you are now thinking: "So there is a silver lining to this virus after all," but I think us masochists who enjoy watching it, who also happen to be Remain voters, would have loved the chance to see the typically absolutely risible UK entry, more risibly bad than any Eurovision entry in history, most likely being awarded "nil points" as is a fairly frequent occurrence anyway, followed by being booed off stage as punishment for leaving the EU. Alas, it is not meant to be.
I was also looking forward to seeing the obvious winner, Iceland, win big at this year's event. For those of you who do not follow Eurovision, first of all - what is wrong with you? This stuff is cultural comedy gold. Just look at it:
You see. The guy's name is Daði Freyr. I had to go and copy the special d from another website as I do not have it on this content system. This one of the many points I am glad I have always been a print or online journalist, so I do not have to make an absolute t*t of myself trying to pronounce his name.
Honestly, the tune is an absolute banger. Now, those of you who know me personally, and let's face it of the people reading this blog that is the vast, vast majority of you, can imagine me saying the phrase "absolute banger" and how totally ridiculous that would sound. If that does not cheer you up, honestly, nothing will.
I do feel heartily sorry for Mr Freyr and his deadpan band, several of whom I believe are related to him. What am I talking about? They're Icelandic, everyone is related to everyone there. That is not a racial stereotype, it's true, read about it in my fascinating blog about our trip to Iceland.
I heard about this track due to Mr Freyr clearly having something of a good social media team, as his tune made it into my Facebook feed, and I saw it and immediately thought: "That is a winner." And Iceland, bless them, with their 300,000 strong population (?) I think, came up with this absolute quality tune, which I would actually listen to other than just for the usual kitsch Eurovision value.
I remember seeing postcards in Iceland that made fun of the fact that Icelanders have a great fondness for music. For example: "What do you do for a living?" "I am a plumber, but I also do music." "I'm a teacher but I also do music." "I'm an accountant but I also do music." Etc. I am sure there is anthropological research on why this is, but I would guess it is something to do with the long, dark winters. Singing songs was probably most likely a way to get through them, and that has endured. With apologies to my friends who are from Iceland. Feel free to tell me that that is a right load of stinking old b***ocks if you wish.
They have never won before according to my two second Google research. But I think they would have been a sure fire winner this year. I'm sorry, Iceland, you have missed your chance. I probably would not have actually stayed up to watch you because of the time difference, and I'm usually passed out by the time the competition would have most likely been starting, but I would have certainly celebrated your victory the following day. Iceland, it was not meant to be. Let us visualise together when this stinking awful disease has finished wreaking havoc, and the deadpan Daði and his band can delight us on another stage.
Good night, friends, family and readers. I love you all. Stay well.
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