Passing the plate 53

As our parade of vanity auto tags continues, it’s time for me to confess. For years, this was mine. My Friends were always happy the state motto didn’t appear at the top.

At contradances, I sometimes parked next to pianist and tunesmith Bob McQuillan, whose plate was off by one letter to read QUACKER. Seems one of the students at the school where he taught carpentry kept telling him that all she heard when he was angry was Quack, Quack, Quack.

Wish I had a shot of the two parked side by side.