Alan Murphy at his home in South Shields with some of his Customs House memorabilia. Photograph: The Journal.
THEY call him The Laughing Man – and just about everyone in South Shields should know exactly where to find him.
Seat A11 at the Customs House is rarely left empty, whether the act on stage is a pantomime, an opera, or a rock ‘n’ roll gig. In fact, for pensioner Alan Murphy, who spends many of his evenings in the front-row seat, it’s got to a pretty bad week at the theatre if he doesn’t attend.
The retired 65-year-old, born and raised in South Shields, is the theatre’s most valued customer. Records show that since 2001 Alan has been 725 times and the number just keeps growing.
Government cuts are hitting theatre companies but Alan is determined not to lose his entertainment centre.
By spending his pension each week on his much-loved leisure time, Alan believes he is helping the arts to keep going.
He does not like to do things in moderation either. On a “good week” Alan can rack up to £50-worth of theatre tickets, often seeing his favourite plays several times.
When the play Good to Firm was on, not only did he go to watch the play twice but he also went to a rehearsal.
Alan has been enjoying himself since 1995 when the Customs House first opened. He took his grandchildren.
He recalls: “My grandson used to have the most wonderful time. He would ring me up after school on a Friday and ask me if there were any shows on.
“We once went to see a Johnny Cash tribute band and he loved it.”
Now that Alan’s grandchildren, Mark, Richard and Samantha, are a little older, the retired shipyard blacksmith goes alone to the theatre.
But if the grandchildren ever decide to come, Alan has a seat waiting for them.
The Customs House Name your Seat scheme has enabled Alan to purchase plaques and dedicate them to his family members.
His seat, A11, arguably the best in the house, is dedicated to all his family, while another is dedicated to his mother Rose and his grandchildren.
Another person to have a seat waiting for them is his fourth grandchild, Callum Robert Harry, who was born on October 31. “He’s got a pair of lungs just like me,” says Alan. “And now he’s got A12, the seat next to mine, dedicated to him.”
After 15 years of visiting the Customs House, Alan is anything but a stranger.
Press officer Kevin Waugh says: “He is such a valued customer. He takes advantage of a community venue.
“Everybody knows him. There are at least 10 companies that ask if he is there in the front row when he comes. They ask: where is the guy that laughs all the time?”
When Alan turned 65 last month there was only one place he was going to be found – in his favourite seat.
He went to see the revival of one of his favourite show, the play Good to Firm, received a special mention in the programme and was guest of honour at the drinks reception.
He says: “In the theatre I let myself go. I don’t think everyone can cope with that! I am a little loud. I sit in the front row, right in the middle, and I get the audience going.
“I laugh so much that people now know me as the laughing man.
“I love the front seat because it’s closest to the story. Within minutes I feel like I am in it. It’s a wonderful feeling.
“When characters in the play get nasty and angry I really get into it. Sometimes I have to shout at myself to remind myself it’s just a play.
“That is the wonder of live entertainment – you see it and you see the people on stage. It is real.”
Alan’s love of theatre, musicals and cinema doesn’t stop when he leaves the venue at Mill Dam because he spends his evenings reminiscing about the performances he has seen.
He happily repeats his favourite lines from old movies, a favourite being “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn” from Gone With the Wind.
“I go home and have the most wonderful conversations with myself,” he jokes.
One of Alan’s best memories takes him back to March 2007 when he went to watch a performance by Paul Jones, lead singer of Manfred Mann.
“When Paul was leaving the Customs House I started chatting to him and told him about a song I loved by Alan Price called Changes. Paul started singing the song and I joined in. A lady nearby started singing too.
“There I was, stood on the steps outside the Customs House on a warm summer evening, singing with one of my heroes. It was a beautiful feeling.”
But Alan hasn’t ever fancied taking to the stage himself, as his memory for lines isn’t up to scratch.
“I just don’t know how people manage to learn so many words,” he says.
When asked by grandchild Mark, at age 10, what he wanted to be when he grew up, Alan replied: “I hope I never grow up – I’m just having such a good time.
The Customs House panto, Puss in Boots, opens on Wednesday. Alan has already booked to go three times.
(This story was first published in the print edition of the Newcastle based Journal on 29 November 2010. The online edition has a different by-line.)