The lighter note in a heavier world

EUROVISION: Always an event to get people talking.

Whether you love it or hate it, there are always moments which will get you thinking about the state of the world and the questionable condition of the human thought process. 

This year Norway were the clear winners, gaining more than 300 points with catchy tune Fairytale.

Everything about it was sugary sweet, from the backdrop images of a quaint storybook village, to the enthusiastic fiddling of the main singer Alexander Rybak, who quite frankly looks like the main hero in a wholesome Disney film. 

The two blonde backing singers in pastel maxi-dresses provided harmonies which would make the most angry of people calmer and for those few minutes, the world was a perkier place.

Which is perhaps why it did so well. Are people looking for escapism in a moment when current affairs, whether it be the crumbling economy, war, or swine flu, aren't offering too many light notes?

The entry from the United Kingdom was created the way most celebrities seem to be born these days, through yet another reality show.

The whole process was led by Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber, who had decided that it was in need of a re-vamp in order to be successful and he was right, Jade Ewan came fifth overall with their offering. 

Marks for effort had to go to some countries who had tried to blend tradition into a modern pop song - I'm thinking Moldova here as their dancers had to move at lightening speeds to keep up with the music.

Denmark's song was written by Ronan Keating - and boy could you tell - as the singer Brinck imitated his singing style to a tee (and I suspect had also raided his wardrobe too). 

Germany tried to add raunch to their act with burlesque cutie Dita Von Teese - which I guess from their low scoring didn't really appeal too much to the family audience - although in my opinion not as shocking as the singer's awful silver skintight trousers.

As usual there were some performances in which you spend the entire time with furrowed brow trying to work out what was going on in their head when they decided to do that. 

Albania featured a nice normal female singer, accompanied by some dancer decked out in a sea green bodysuit complete with mask, looking like he's just arrived fresh from an audition for an toilet cleaner advert. Mad as a fish.

Runner-up has to go to Ukraine whose dancers were dressed as Gladiators. Again no reasoning.

Maybe that's another point as to why Norway's song was so popular; it summed up the whole ethos of the Eurovision Song Contest.

In love with a fairytale? You would have to be to sit through this collection of eccentricity and multi-cultural madness.

The day the pig flu over the world

AS with most things discussed in the press, the reported cases of Swine Flu are provoking two common trails of thought.

There are those who switch on their TV, radio, log on to the web or open a paper and read about the situation, believing it all; develop a fearful look in their eyes as they clear the fridge of sausages and bacon and stock up on tissues and anti-bac hand spray.  That little bottle of hand cleaner coupled with fitful gasps by the owner as they witness other people sneezing next to them on public transport has replaced those huge "The End is Nigh" sandwich boards normally worn by skinny, slightly feral looking men with beards who used to frequent busy city centres.  They accept that whether it is Swine Flu, Bird Flu, SARS, whatever, it is going to get them in the end and that nobody will escape. 

The second type are those who find it easier to believe that it isn't actually happening, and is just the result of a quiet news week.  Somewhere in a top secret location, without anyone knowing, all of the world's press got together and decided that this week was the right time to create mass hysteria about something which is after all, never going to be as deadly as the much maligned Man Flu.  After single-handedly being responsible for creating the credit crunch, the savage messenger boys have now turned their attentions to destroying your sanity by making you believe there is a new kind of deadly flu.  And in fact it all began because an old person situated in a quiet corner of Mexico died shortly after sneezing. Probably. 

My opinion?  Well I imagine there will be indentations on my behind due to the amount of sitting on the fence I do, but the media are just doing their jobs, and complying according to demand.  If you weren't interested, you wouldn't read about it, would you? Most of it may well be sheer sensationalism, but if nobody ever reported it and the flu continued to spread, the public would start whispering about cover-ups and question of why they were never told about it.  As a journalist, it's a case of damned if you do, damned if you don't. 

The days of intellectual types admitting they agree with the press have long passed and it is fashionable to belittle and criticise journalists regardless of what they report.  I imagine Swine Flu probably won't take over the world, and will soon be consigned to the list of forgotten world threats.

But not shooting the messenger? That'll be the days pigs fly. 

Never shop under the influence of a bank holiday

BANK holidays do funny things to shoppers.

Technically it's one or two days where you might not be able to access a supermarket, and despite the fact that you may never normally visit a store for a whole week, it puts the fear of God into you.  What if you run out of mixed herbs or fishfingers in the meantime?  You have cupboards crammed with food but guaranteed the one thing you want is the very thing you will run out of, just when access to supplies is being denied.

And so this very basic and irrational fear seems to be part of the human nature, evolved after centuries of incompetence.  Everyone, no matter how sensible they may be the rest of the time, will make a mental note to pop into the supermarket before a bank holiday to stock up on bread: "Three loaves should be enough, shouldn't it dear?" You'll hear people mutter.  "Are we okay for carrots?" and classic behaviour includes stocking up on burgers and buns ready for the "traditional" Bank Holiday Barbeque which never happens because the typical British weather will put a stop to that.

So as normal I fell prey to this behaviour and found myself in the supermarket on the Saturday before Easter Sunday, and witnessed a truly spectacular incident. 

My way was blocked by two trolleys as their drivers (can you drive a trolley?) went to war.

How it started? Nobody is sure, but people were certainly sticking around to discover how it was going to end. 

In the red corner: a chav in her early 20s sporting stereotypical sportswear in various pastel shades which clashed with her bleached blonde and chocolate brown highlights. In the blue: a menopausal woman with too much eyeliner and a backcombed hairdo she hadn't changed since she first looked on at the cast of Dallas in envy in 1988. 

Such was their need to get their shopping sorted before the store closed in six hours, they were getting angry, something to do with the chav not moving out of the way for 80s woman.  The chav unwisely made some rude comment to her mother about 80s woman and that was it. The elder opponent launched into a tirade of very, very loud abuse. 

"Look at your hair!" the elder said.  The case of pot calling kettle was revealed for what it was as the Chav retorted: "Look at my hair? Look at your hair!"  It was never going to be a winning put-down, like two fat kids mocking each other's size.  With morbid fascination people began to gape like goldfish, unable to tear themselves away from the floorshow of bad taste.  Had it really come to this? People so desperate to make sure they have enough milk to get through the weekend were resorting to public humiliation.  And once started, they then realised they had no grounds for an argument but determined to win, they had stooped to commenting on appearances. The 80s woman then stormed out of the store declaring she would never, ever return to such a place.

The thing is, of course, that after the catfight had dispersed, people shook their heads, paid for their shopping and almost certainly left without the one item they came in for.