This morning, Oliver and I joined my friend D and climbed these stairs.
It was grueling, to tell you the truth, and I had to stop several times and contemplate the universe. Oh, and catch my breath. I think lifting and carrying Sophie has kept me in a modicum of shape, but man oh man, I was out of breath and my thighs are still quivering. When we got to the top -- a scenic overlook -- the athletic freakazoids were doing push-ups and what looked like twirling handstands. A group of very large Rastafarians were listening to reggae. Men, women, old, young, black, white, Asian, Latino -- a real slice of Los Angeles walked those steps and took in what is the best reason for walking up so many stairs -- the view of the mountains and the skyline to the east and north:
We're living the life out here, aren't we?