From San Jose, Sally and her clownish boyfriend braved the twisties through San Lorenzo mountains with excess speed, then alighted at a Ben Lomond bar. Sally was drunk again, partying down at Henfling’s in less than a skirt with makeup to hide age. Flinging back her textured hair and manicured nails, this telemarketer felt like the life of the party with her sizzling motorbike and golden jewelry, all more than she could afford.
The bartender insisted she pay in advance as rock blasted, “Go on, take the money and run.” The clown bought drinks, hoping his credit would take her for a ride, and he was just one amongst many fake-it-until-you-make-it salesmen who tempted with apples. Even department store salesgirls ask for credit apps. “Can’t buy me love,” wailed Paul McCartney.
Half asleep, Sally wandered into the bathroom to barf, bumped her head on the toilet and fell into slop. There she dreamt of a bar full of crazy people who could hold their liquor better than she could. And this was half of America where the average debtor owes $6,605.
Uncle Sam, draped all in stripes, inspired her to spend as thoughtlessly as the government, which borrows more than $93,500 per person and then taxes people on income earned overtime to pay down yearly interest of nearly 4% of GDP.
She imagined her ex-husband, “Yuk!” who snarled: “You can’t make it on your own. Debt will catch you. You, you, wrecked our marriage and my credit. All you did was argue in front of the kids.” Sally slapped him hard but he disappeared.
Calmed with numbers, the beady-eyed accountant turned off lights to concentrate on the bottom line, red or black: “Sally, you owe 60 grand from a dozen credit cards, and, at 30% interest, you must pay $2,100 a month for four years!”
He swiped glasses with the jovial debtor, Charles Dickens, who wrote: “Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty-pound ought and six, result misery.”
“Where’s my life?” sobbed Sally as the speakers blared, “Drove the chevy to the levy but the levy was dry. This will be the day that I die!”
The priest, drinking Tequila, said: “Christ may pay your debts, but that is no excuse…”
Next to him sat a cross-legged Buddhist monk in red robes, drinking tea, who counseled, “Be mindful lest greed keep you from enlightenment.”
Playing pool, the debt consolidator sang songs of lower mortgage relief payments: “Don’t ask what happens when creditors won’t play?”
Heavily in debt, the red-tailed lawyer menaced over the eight ball he then sank: “See you in bankruptcy court. Bad credit for seven years!”
The mortgage broker piped in words of salvation: “Sally, please wake up. Because you paid timely, I might get you a 60K home equity line of credit (HELOC) that would reduce payments to $402 per month.”
Sally responded, “Is my house on the line?”
The broker responded: “Absolutely, but you may take your life off the line.”
Turning to the accountant, she implored: “Would you trust a broker in a bar?”
“Never!” the accountant responded mechanically, “and even salesclerks hand you charge applications. But the HELOC could reduce your required payments by $1,698 long term. Or pay $1,023 a month to be debt free in six years with just $13,632 interest. Or stick with credit card payments of $2,100 for four years and three months to pay off the debt with interest of $46,542!”
Knowing she had hit bottom, dreading beady eyes more than red tails, Sally sighed as she woke up to clean off the slop: “I’ll take the HELOC and work two jobs to pay it all off! And no more drinking like this! Damn it, I’ll even try Debtors Anonymous.”
With finality, the accountant exclaimed, “Destroy credit cards and use debit.”
Music blared: “Get your money for nothin’ (I want my, I want my) Chicks for free (I want my MTV).”
Sally weaved out of the parking lot alone on her Harley and came to a stoplight with the Sheriff watching. She stopped but forgot to put her foot down and was arrested saying, “I need more credit!”
Robert Arne, EA, CFP, MS, of Carpe Diem Financial Life Planning, gives holistic financial advice as his client’s fee-only fiduciary. He serves mostly Santa Cruz Mountain dwellers. These articles must not be read as personal financial, mortgage, tax or investment advice; consult appropriate professionals. Learn more at www.carpediem.financial.
