Folks, I’m embarrassed.  After a half century, it has finally dawned on me that the term “class warfare” didn’t mean a war between people with class and those who are without it. Gee, do I ever feel dumb!

Imagine my surprise when I learned that “class warfare” really meant the conflict between the perceived “Haves” and the perceived “Have Nots”.  Not knowing whose side I fell on in this war, I undertook a scientific approach to discover where I stood. 

I picked a daisy and, pulling each petal off of it, I said, “I have. I have not.  I have.  I have not.”  From this extensive scientific study, I came to the conclusion that I’m a “have”. 

At first, I felt ecstatic to be counted among the “Haves”.  I began to compare myself to all of the poor “Have Nots” that my gaze fell upon.  I took pride in that I wasn’t where they were and had what they don’t.  Heck!  I was even proud of the fact that I was enlightened enough to know that I needed to pursue my inner Ladmo.

Reclining back in my favorite chair, drumming my fingers on my Buddha-like belly, relishing my good fortune at being a “Have”, I began to feel troubled.  A conflict rose up within me.  The gains that I made in my pursuit of my inner Ladmo seemed to be slipping away from me at lightning speed.  I felt that I was an eternity away from reaching my golden Ladmo Bag.

So I did the only thing that I knew to do:  I got into my meditation position (okay, I reclined back in my recliner) and began chanting my mantra (oh, oh, ah, ah, ee, ee, ah, ah). 

After waking up a few times, it dawned on me:  I needed to fight and subdue my inner Gerald.  Yes!  I had an inner Gerald!  You don’t know who Gerald is? Let me tell you about him.

Gerald (as you probably have already figured out, was played superbly by the multi-talented Pat McMahon) was the character on The Wallace and Ladmo Show that was the kids equivalent of J.R. Ewing of “Dallas” fame.  According to WallaceWatchers.com, he was the perpetually 12 year nephew of the TV station’s manager.  Literally every appearance of Gerald on the show, or on the countless personal appearances around the Phoenix valley, drew boo’s and hisses from EVERYONE.  His ultimate goal was to get the Wallace and Ladmo Show booted off the air and replaced with his own show that would be chocked full of poetry, classical music and other high brow stuff. 

Gerald personified, and amplified, class warfare with the kids in the audience by deriding them for attending public schools, for not loving things of “culture” and for living in tract housing.

Back to my epiphany.

While meditating, I thought to myself, “B-b-b-but I couldn’t POSSIBLY be like Gerald, could I?” 

As much as I tried to deny it, I had only to think back a few minutes prior to remember that I was thanking my box of Lucky Charms that I was a “Have” and being thankful that I was not a “Have Not”.

I then came to realize that being a “Have” is relative.  While I’m doing better than some (by Uncle Sam’s way of figuring things, it doesn’t take much to be placed in that highly taxed category), there are lots of people that are infinitely more wealthy than I could ever hope to be.  That, in and of itself, is very humbling. 

The same kind of thinking and humility can be applied to countless other things that I would ever contemplate taking pride in.

So, what did I do to suppress my inner Gerald?  I did the mental equivalent of giving him a terminal wedgie and hanging him on a hook in the junk closet of my mind, hopefully never to be indulged ever again.

How?  By realizing that, no matter how good that I have it in whatever category of life, there is always someone that is far superior than I view myself.  This has helped me be a different kind of thankful for what I have and to think of ways that I might be able to help those less fortunate than I am.

As my inner Ladmo began to rise to the surface, I began to look at others differently.  Being healthy, I looked to help those who weren’t.  Being gainfully employed, I looked for constructive ways to help friends that were un, or under, employed find good jobs.  When seeing someone with clothes that I wouldn’t use to wash my car, I felt compelled to give them the barely worn clothes that were taking up space in my closet.

Ah, I am beginning to see the Ladmo Bag coming into view again.

Take that, Gerald!

Next, the Golden Ladmo Bag.