i decided to try and meet my homeboy p-22 at griffith park, but he didn’t want to show up. in fact, i don’t think p-22 has ever shown himself willingly to humans.
i park at the entrance to the west end of the park off of canyon road (west of western ave.) and make the climb up. usually i head east to mt. bell and mt. hollywood to avoid the crowds heading westward to mt. lee and the hollywood sign, but i just said fuck it. i’ll go to the fucking hollywood sign. so i did.
the entire hike was a little longer than i anticipated. it was 6.41 miles and went from about 675 feet in elevation to 1,650 feet. fortunately the climbs in palos verdes trained me well since i was able to do the climb just fine. sure i was a bit winded here and there, but nothing too bad.
once i got to the top, it was amazing to see the view of los angeles on one side and glendale and burbank on the other. to think that this was supposed to be someone’s home until the crash of 1929. if i had more time, i would have gone over to cahuenga peak right next door.
in all it took me over two hours to do. i didn’t see p-22. i didn’t see any snakes. but i did get to see the hollywood sign up close, and i got to see a bunch of tourists make their trek in the summer heat. there were no jumpers (that i know of).
on the suicide note, i’m still a bit numb about robin william’s death. i watched insomnia last night and realized what a great actor he was. actually that movie was well made all the way around.
anyhow there’s a lot of hot air surrounding the news. the he’s-such-a-selfish-pussy nonsense and the we-need-to-get-serious-about-mental-health. blah blah blah blah. it gets better. we all love you. what do you have to be sad about? it’s a good thing i’ve avoided the hot-takes in recent days because i probably would have killed myself just to get away from it. (i know. tasteless.)
basically, can you people just shut up for a second? thanks.