Or maybe I was just trying to avoid spending money.
Then, some time before our excursion to Japan I noticed an interesting listing in the Rhythms magazine gig guide.
Harry Manx would be playing at the Proserpine Cultural Centre on May 23. I wandered down to the other end of the Little House of Concrete to inquire whether Madam might be interested in catching the show and then, in the flurry of preparations for the trip to Japan, forgot all about it.
We’d been back in the country for a fortnight when Madam appeared in my office brandishing the Weekend Australian Review section and asking if this guy who appeared in the Hotseats section of that week’s edition was the same guy who was playing Prossie.
Of course, it was.
And so it was that the late afternoon of 23 May saw the two of us heading southwards with a view to a spot of shopping, dinner at Airlie Beach and a night of live music. Preliminary research had indicated there were plenty of tickets available at the door, but I thought it best to be outside when the doors opened at 7:15.
Although I had been to the Proserpine Cultural Centre before, my previous visit was well over twenty years before, and so, as we drove down the town’s main street we went straight past the venue, which, at first glance, I’d dismissed as a church or similar structure, temporarily deserted with a few lights turned on for security purposes.
However, once we’d accomplished a U-turn and spotted the Tonight: Harry Manx sign outside, there we were.
Entering the building some forty minutes before scheduled starting time, we found a lobby populated by three theatre employees, a couple at the merchandise table and a solitary paying punter. Over the next twenty minutes or so a few more paying customers filtered in before we decided to venture into the auditorium and select our seats, deciding that the front row was, without significant competition, the place to be.