I'm Not Afraid To Move On
Kiruna, 8th of March 2008, The Day the Music Died.
It is only now, almost a year later that I am able to face this blog again. The painful memories are finally dimming. I have been through it over and over in my head over the last 10 months. I have made so many attempts to understand why the Swedish nation sent Carola (and Andreas) out of Melodifestivalen, but the truth is we may never know the reason why. She is not the first great figure to have been betrayed by her people (see Julius Caesar, Jesus, Margaret Thatcher).
The music died. This blog has been frozen. But the world went on. Eurovision 2008 came and went, as did Wogan, global financial meltdown happened and countries even began their selections for the 2009 Contest. But STILL it didn’t feel right to leave the period of mourning. I was contemplating completely avoiding the 2009 Eurovision cycle* to see what else life had to offer. And then, just before Christmas, a sign. The great one addresses her fallen acolytes: This intimate moment captured on camera by an angel in the audience and posted on Youtube. She discusses the pain of betrayal, shares some of what the therapists have told her, forgives Nordman their witch burning and reveals her moment of desperation following Kiruna when her local Homebase ran out of potplants. Finally she leaves us in no doubt that she is reconciled with this painful episode and has found peace. She even has the good grace to forgive Andreas and release him from that bed and piece of elastic.
If she has forgiven and moved on then so must I. Finally the time has come to leave the events on that dark day behind. I can finally clear up that torn up Ikea catalogue from my floor and return to Euro. National finals season is here. It is time to cast my nighted colour off and join in the fun.
With Turkey and Albania chosen and the BBC (usually champions of the anybody-we-can-get-at-the-last-minute selection format) already on a multi-week selection journey there is much to catch up on and discuss. Let the circle begin once again! There will be upset, scathing disgust and disbelief at national decisions. This will be swiftly followed (in most cases, not all) by acceptance and even dreadful dancing to songs once despised. God bless the sweet cultural lobotomy that is the Eurovision Song Contest.
All I want, All I need is for Euro to stand by me.
2009. One love.
*copyright Tyra Banks : fierce
It is only now, almost a year later that I am able to face this blog again. The painful memories are finally dimming. I have been through it over and over in my head over the last 10 months. I have made so many attempts to understand why the Swedish nation sent Carola (and Andreas) out of Melodifestivalen, but the truth is we may never know the reason why. She is not the first great figure to have been betrayed by her people (see Julius Caesar, Jesus, Margaret Thatcher).
The music died. This blog has been frozen. But the world went on. Eurovision 2008 came and went, as did Wogan, global financial meltdown happened and countries even began their selections for the 2009 Contest. But STILL it didn’t feel right to leave the period of mourning. I was contemplating completely avoiding the 2009 Eurovision cycle* to see what else life had to offer. And then, just before Christmas, a sign. The great one addresses her fallen acolytes: This intimate moment captured on camera by an angel in the audience and posted on Youtube. She discusses the pain of betrayal, shares some of what the therapists have told her, forgives Nordman their witch burning and reveals her moment of desperation following Kiruna when her local Homebase ran out of potplants. Finally she leaves us in no doubt that she is reconciled with this painful episode and has found peace. She even has the good grace to forgive Andreas and release him from that bed and piece of elastic.
If she has forgiven and moved on then so must I. Finally the time has come to leave the events on that dark day behind. I can finally clear up that torn up Ikea catalogue from my floor and return to Euro. National finals season is here. It is time to cast my nighted colour off and join in the fun.
With Turkey and Albania chosen and the BBC (usually champions of the anybody-we-can-get-at-the-last-minute selection format) already on a multi-week selection journey there is much to catch up on and discuss. Let the circle begin once again! There will be upset, scathing disgust and disbelief at national decisions. This will be swiftly followed (in most cases, not all) by acceptance and even dreadful dancing to songs once despised. God bless the sweet cultural lobotomy that is the Eurovision Song Contest.
All I want, All I need is for Euro to stand by me.
2009. One love.
*copyright Tyra Banks : fierce
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