Of all the things in the world that me, an American college student that studies history and English in a public university in the southern states of the country, could get so addicted to that he could probably be admitted to a “Blah Blah Anonymous” program for it, why is it that the Eurovision Song Contest would be that one thing. Jonathan King of Britain’s Guardian wrote about the 2000 contest:

“I’ve covered presidential conventions and charity concerts. I’ve been to key sporting events and vast festivals. But Eurovision is the one event that constantly astonishes me by the size and spread of intense interest….
So why is it that the ancient, non-credible, localized phenomenon of Eurovision has become the global magnet for virtually every media representative?
I think it’s because it’s so good- hearted. There really is a terrific feeling of bonhomie. Nobody can take pop music that seriously. By definition it’s fun, superficial, transitory and frothy. Nobody’s dying. There are no wars or famines. It doesn’t elect leaders or praise greatness. It’s an evening of laughter and joy and frivolity. Which, after all, incorporates the essence of humanity.
Eurovision attracts the media people for exactly the same reasons that viewers love it. We all love a trip to somewhere different, a few days not having to concentrate on heavy issues, an excuse to giggle and gossip and laugh. I reckon that if you polled the greatest news gatherers in the world on their favorite event of the year, Eurovision would come out on top. And quite right too.”

Unfortunately, I cannot say that this reason is sufficient to explain this addiction. For distraction purposes, I have many easy outlets, ones that don’t involve spending hours upon hours listening to and comparing songs while hearing constant complaints about block-voting tactics from those that feel the contest has no basis in talent. However, in the end, these other distractions (games, books, comedy programs, The Golden Girls) all consistently lose the wonder that this song contest has become in my life. Why is this?

The only way I can conceivably answer this is to look back into how I discovered the contest. It all began with my high school French class. Madame would usually start the week out with a music video or two from French popular culture. However, after two years in the class, she was running out of new material to show, and we were getting bored with repeats of her personal favorites. In response, I took it upon myself to find her more music. This began with a search of many artists in the Pour Haiti music video, leading me to artists such as Superbus and Ophelie Winters. However, these only lasted so long, and by pure luck, I ran across Patricia Kaas’ wonderous entry for 2009. At first, I did nothing more with Eurovision. I had supplied my teacher with more variety in music video, and the class was peaceful.

Then Spring Break crept upon me, and boredom set in. Looking through my Youtube favorites, I began to wonder, what exactly is Eurovision. Well, research ensued, and before long… I end up in this condition. However, this still does not answer the question how, and unsurprisingly, I cannot answer that question. Perhaps it was the events in my life at the time that led me to the attachment on some of the music from the contest as a coping mechanism, or maybe I just and easily amused by these performances and the fact that the competition always occurs around my birthday.

Nevertheless, the addiction happened, and here I am beginning a blog that will be following my thoughts and feelings about the contest. From the present day until the beginnings in 1956, what will come to my mind? What will I write about? Well, the only way to find out is a start on it. I suspect the very beginnings to be somewhat normal: favorites, lists, observations, news. However, I know me well, and I feel that it can’t stay that way. Discussions on block-voting, observations on the average entries from countries, the appearance of Eurovision in my everyday conversation, all of it will appear on this blog. Hopefully, I won’t seem too crazy.