Not much progress...

I had installed one of the floorboards and was just tightening the bolts on the first set of seat belts when I got a text message on my phone. It was from Kyle, Guitar Pick Custodian for The Jackson Two:

"We're here, where are you?"

I could only assume that he was referring to Bolton field when he said "here" because I couldn't fathom why he might think I would care if he was anywhere else.

"At the hangar," I replied.

"We're at JP's."

Oh, that's cool! I figured they must have come up to see the WWII bombers. I texted back that I'd be over in just a couple of minutes.

He replied, "We might be in the restaurant."

I couldn't let that one go. I'm built such that when the doctor thumps my knee with his little mallet, my leg doesn't make the expected reflexive twitch. Instead, I make a smart ass comment. I swear, it's completely involuntary. That's my excuse for texting back:

"Can't you tell? Look up - if you see blue with some puffy white clouds in it, you're outside."

[no response]

Well, I thought it was funny.

I closed up the shop, grabbed the camera, and went to look for them. They were, in fact, in the restaurant.

I got some nice pictures of the hardware.