Much to my husband's disquiet, we gather in the appointed living room, make lists of the acts and grade them according to their musical and entertainment value (the two often don't actually crossover at all. The ones who can't sing often win the entertainment award!)
I see it in much the same light as jousts of old, or gladiatorial festivities. All those hopes and dreams wrapped up in national tribal pride! Strategic voting that reflects generations of politics and even warfare. The way Britain apologises for the Famine each year by giving us at least ten and sometimes 12 points. The way we respond by grudgingly awarding 8 (forgiven, not forgotten you understand.)
In recent years the advent of eastern block voting, literally, has ruined some of the fun but since Lordi's triumphant pyrotechnic dismantling of the Eurovision cliché there's been a bit of a return to quirky unique and less predictable patterns of wins and losses.
This year Jedward go forth in our name, a two-headed threat to european stability, our revenge for sending in the baliffs. Lipstick is...a catchy production number. It's not Dana warbling about all kinds of everything that's for sure. But they perform it with verve and energy and hopefully they'll give us the holy grail of finals...one with us in it!
If we win, then I'll know the 80s have made a complete comeback. Recession, unexpected sports victoris and Eurovsion coming to Dublin.
Thursday *pm RTE 2.