It’s Sunday afternoon and I’m in the midst of cleaning my house ahead of tonight’s Sydney ABBAMAIL Eurovision Party. I’ve lost track of the number of parties I’ve hosted, but it must be six or seven by now. I missed a couple of years, though, due to extended stays in Darwin and Perth.
And one of the traditions of each year’s party is scoresheets with a “prize” for the person who scores closest to the people of Europe with their top three (or thereabouts). So, yes, the person with the worst taste in music.
Mind you, the scoring can vary somewhat, taking into account such diverse criteria as tune, lyrics, dance routines, fashon and general hotness. Each person scores according to their own preference. I, for example, like a good tune.
The person who gets closest to the top three wins a prize (something crap from the $2 shop) with a Eurovision theme. Previous prizes have included a minitature Eurovision-style trophy and a globe. For this year, I’ve gone back to the early days of Eurovision, with a statue of a woman in an long evening dress.
Throughout the night, I’ll be posting photographs, videos and comments. But for now, it’s back to the dishes!