On Saturday nights, the pros invade the d.w. eye spotlight and the occasional hearty chuckle is supplanted by the outright belly laugh… The quality of Saturday nights at d.w. eye proves that there are a plethora of anonymous looney tooners out in the Midwestern Hinterlands.
Here’s the full April, 1981 Cincinnati Magazine article by Britt Robson that first introduced d.w. eye to the public. The eye was doing well before this article was published. After the issue came out, the club exploded.
Read the full article here. Even the ads are cool.
Here’s the cover. Baseball season, 1981!
And don’t forget to get your tickets to the d.w. eye reunion, June 23rd at the 20th Century Theatre!
All material © Cincinnati Magazine, Britt Robson
I had finished my act and was in the back playing Missile Command. (I couldn’t touch Mike’s high score – but could beat just about anyone else’s.) Roger had introduced Jack as the weekend’s opener. But now the room was quiet – like when Durst had the audience entranced – but different. I could hear murmurs, an angry shout followed by broken, awkward laughs. Drew, near the bar, waved me over. Jack, on stage, was shouting at the audience.
What were we talking about? Shit – I forgot the – forgot the punchline – oh yeah – C’mon, everybody! C’mon – heard the fucker so many times – you could do the joke better’n me! C’mon! What do y’want? New shit? New shit? Buy me a fuckin’ jokebook, motherfucker. Was that rude? Fuck. Excuse me.
The comics looked on, eyes wide. Jack was loaded, as drunk as I’d ever seen him.