Laughter might not be the most natural response to a world unraveling, but it could be the best prescription for the sake of mental health.
In the years before that, DNA’s ambition was essentially to turn the entire downtown commercial district into one giant rotating comedy club.
“I always looked at the floor when I was there,” said DNA.
“I devised a system ,” he said, “where comics literally had to run from 99 Bottles to Rosie McCann’s to The Poet & The Patriot, dropping a set at each place, with no time left to spare.
Of course, in 2021, those venues — 99 Bottles, Rosie’s, The Poet — are all gone, victims of the economic fallout from COVID-19.
And I was just turning the corner to the point where I could maybe get a paycheck.
“My wife saw how depressed I was,” said DNA of those first days.
We did about 150 shows on Zoom, and you know I had major headliners, a lot of them going through the same thing as me and you,” he said.
“It became obvious to me that in comedy, it was either evolve or perish, you had to mutate or disappear.
DNA’s Comedy Lab is no longer a physical space or downtown destination, but it lives on as a concept and an online hub of activity.
“I personally am still reintegrating into society,” said DNA, “feeling quite awkward for being locked up for a year and a half, and I’m still getting used to it.
Wallace Baine is Lookout’s City Life Correspondent, covering arts, music and culture, as well as the people who make Santa Cruz and neighboring communities tick.