I heard Cleat got sick some time back, bad sick. Do you know if he's Ok now?
I'll tell you a funny Cleat story:
Cleat, aka Paul, is about 6'4+ and when he worked for me probably 280 maybe more. Probably more. That's why we call him ":Cleat", "Here Paul, hold this line."
Paul lives on Bainbridge Island and would commute via ferry on his bicycle. One dark and stormy night in a driving rainstorm riding with his head down Cleat rode right into the back of a parked car.
He was OK. His bike was a wreck. He took it to the local Ballard bike shop for repairs and was concerned about the cost to fix it. I went into the shop without Paul and told the bike shop owner to fix everything on the bike and replace all the running gear with the very best available. I'd cover the cost. I wanted the bike better than new. The shop called and told Paul the bike was done and I drove him down to the shop. They wheeled the bike out and Paul's eyes bugged out and he stood there in stunned silence. Then the shop owner handed Cleat the bill. Paul took some time studying the bill and studying the bike and studying the bill
and didn't say anything. Finally, "I didn't really think I needed a new seat."
I told Paul the bike was on me and we all had a good laugh. Cleat slowly but surely destroyed every drafting stool I had in the office. He's a big boy.