An Occasional Ray of Hope

A couple of years ago, I purchased a custom bumper sticker online from Cafe Press and put it on the rear window of my pickup truck's cab.  At the time, I assumed that my truck would quickly be keyed, and that I'd see many fists shaken, and many one-finger salutes, from the Real, Red-State 'Murkins among whom I live.

Oddly, none of that has happened.  Perhaps I should say "that I know of" ... you see, the rusty paint on my truck is such that I'm not apt to notice a "key" job.  Somebody would need to use a chainsaw or a hammer and cold chisel, in all likelihood.  And I did have one lady pull up next to me at a stoplight and yell across to me that she liked the sticker, which was encouraging.  But this past Friday morning, I came out of the YMCA and jumped in my truck, and then noticed that someone had put a note under the wiper on my side.  Climbing out and retrieving it, I saw:

Is that good, or what?

By the way, I have to say that, based on an extensive sample size of two, the women seem to be the ones who have some sense.  My hat's off to you ladies.