I got my first pre-beach hug of the season from Carlos at the Drake and headed for the tunnel. I worry that the ceiling is going to cave in along with one or more of the thousands of cars driving over it every day. Come on - Park District - get with it.
Happily, the murals escaped graffiti over the winter. A few touch ups and they should be okay. Bruce, the massage guy, needs an eyelift on his likeness (though not in real life.)
Marcia and I stayed until the bitter end. I even stuck my toes in the frigid, but clear water. The measure of success for today is threefold.
Now it's time to sample some of that bread and cheese and roast the asparagus for dinner.