The Ladmo Bag: Proof That It’s Never Too Late

Did someone say Ladmo Bag?! OMG!!! Pick me! Pick me!


Don’t know what a Ladmo Bag is? Lemme ‘splain.  Growing up, I lived in Arizona. I lived in the “olden times” (as my kids like to put it) when TV had maybe 10 channels. For my sister and I, there really was only one channel that mattered. Well, really it was just one show that mattered: The Wallace and Ladmo Show. It was a local television show filmed in Phoenix, Arizona. Basically, it was a sketch show for kids with cartoons shown within the time slot. That was great and everything, but the real reason to watch the Wallace and Ladmo show? Waiting to find out who was picked for the pinnacle of childhood – The Ladmo Bag.

The coveted Ladmo Bag was full of candy, soda, and other prizes. Along with it came the prestige of being the glorious, chosen one. You didn’t have to be in the audience to win. You could send in a postcard with your name and address. My sister and I probably sent 100s if not 1000s of postcards wishing for a win. At the end of each show, we would sit. And wait. And sweat. And pray. It was anxiety and anticipation like no other. Will they call my name? Will today FINALLY be my day?


We knew that if our names were ever chosen, we would wear the mantle of the chosen one with pride and dignity…right after we rubbed it in everyone’s faces. We dreamed of that moment. Day after day. Month after month. Year after year. The Ladmo Bag goes to……it was always some other kid who wasn’t me or my sister. Every. Single. Time. We tried to be strong and not show our disappointment but….COME ON! We were good kids. We sorta cleaned our rooms. The dishes were washed most of the time. When we fought with each other, we hardly ever drew blood. Why not us?


Alas…for all of the postcards written, postage paid, and episodes watched, we never won. Then the show ended. No more chances to get a Ladmo Bag. We were crushed. How could it be over? How could we have NEVER gotten a Ladmo bag? The quest for the coveted Ladmo Bag was done. How were we supposed to go on living knowing there would never be another chance?!


As things usually are in childhood, we cried for a few days, got yelled at for our whining, and eventually moved on. Well, we moved on the best we could. I don’t think anyone ever got over wanting a Ladmo Bag. Seriously, I still get this little pain in my chest when I think about it. Makes it hard to breathe. What? Shut up! I’m telling you a Ladmo Bag was a big deal.

Fast forward 25+ years (please do not feel the need to do any math to guesstimate how old I may be). The desire for the Ladmo Bag? Still alive and kicking. My sister reminisced, complained, whined, and whatever-else-enough that my awesome brother-in-law decided she needed a Ladmo Bag for her birthday. (Seriously…how awesome is that?!) He researched the legendary Ladmo Bag and recreated it to a T. He gave it to her. She loved it. It was awesome. I still don’t have one. *HINT, HINT*

Anyway, the whole getting a Ladmo Bag 25+ years later got me thinking all philosophical and stuff. If something as epic as a Ladmo Bag could happen decades later (…again…no need for math here…), what else could still be possible? Successful career? Finally being able to perfect the Roger Rabbit (…it’s dance move people…keep up!…)? Being an astronaut for NASA? On second thought, scratch the NASA one. Four kids totally ruined my stomach. I can’t even go on the Ferris Wheel without the urge to hurl now. Of course, NASA might be more feasible than perfecting the Roger Rabbit. Seriously…I look like a turkey walking backwards when I try to do it (…and that’s on a good day…).

Anyhow, I feel like there comes a point in our lives when we look around, shrug our shoulders, and say, “Oh, well. Too late now.” Why do we do that? Don’t worry it’s not just you. I totally do it to…but I’m working on it. I feel like I’ve woken up, looked around, and realized I can do better than this. There is so much we are capable if we would stop talking ourselves out of it. I mean, I totally could still get a Ladmo Bag, right? Right?! (…please say yes, please say yes…)

So, I want you stop what you’re doing and think about something you really want to do. (…don’t stop right this second…I mean, it’s only polite to at least finish reading my post…) Figure your something out. What’s your Ladmo Bag? I’m working on mine. There are going to be moments when you get discouraged. You’re going to start to question yourself. I don’t want to hear any of this, “Well, it’s too late” or “That ship has sailed”. It’s all about you now. What you want. What you dream. It can happen. It is not too late. Who’s got the power?


Darn straight…now go get that Ladmo Bag.


5 comments on “The Ladmo Bag: Proof That It’s Never Too Late

  1. mamadestroy says:

    Thanks so much for this post! Your narrative voice is the perfect blend of humorous and truly insightful.
    It’s so hard to think of something that I lusted after as a kid that I would kill to have now. There were these LA Gear jeans that had shoelaces up the side that I thought were the coolest things in the entire world. I wanted one pair of turquoise and one pair of peach high top converse sneakers so I could wear one of each color a la Punky Brewster.
    Christian Slater? I’m not sure I want that any more either.

    Maybe being a writer is my Ladmo Bag. I always wanted to be one, and at some point I pushed it aside, decided it was just an impractical dream. Blogging is me sending one or two postcards out there. Maybe my name will get drawn.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you for your comment! You and I have the same Ladmo Bag (though, admittedly, I do have more than one). I’ve decided I will send as many “postcards” as it takes this time around. Not giving up this time!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. rrapier33 says:

    Oh the memories this post brought back. I always wanted a Ladmo Bag, but never enough to actually put the effort into it that you and your sister did. I just wanted it to happen magically. Sadly, I ended up with the same result as you.

    I love the sentiment of this post and I am happy I read it today as it is exactly what I needed to hear. Thanks Max, or as we prefer to call you at our house, Becks.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’m so glad you liked it. I’ll admit that I come back to this piece when I need a reminder or a literary kick in the butt.

      The one thing I know I have achieved is great friends. You and that fabulous woman you live with are at the top of that list.

      Becks…Max…call me whatever you want as long as you still call me to your house…

      Liked by 1 person

  3. KT says:

    I never got one either. But I did put some together for my sisters last year. They each were down in the dumps and I wanted to cheer them up. Like your brother-in-law, I created a graphic, printed it on the bag, then loaded it with their favorite treats. I thought about making one for our brother, but he got a *real* one back in the old days.


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