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The American way of credit cards

The American Way of Credit Cards

WITH THE current outery about the high rate of interest banks are charging the nation's 70 million or so credit-card holders, now seems to be the time to relate the sad case of Uncle Roscoe.

We don't talk much in our family about Uncle Roscoe. He always was a strange one. Outwardly, he seemed every inch a respectable American. But the fact of the matter was that he never owned a credit card. It wasn't because he had a poor credit rating or lacked an income. Roscoe had a huge income as a plumber.

Cousin Sweetbread always suspected Roscoe was a "closet charger" who went on out-of-town credit sprees with a dozen or so secret credit cards. Grandpa Willie, on the other hand, figured Roscoe for a reformed credit addict who swore off when he realized he couldn't handle the stuff.

Neither was right. The truth was that Roscoe never had a credit card or even a charge account in his life!

I know because he and I had a long talk about it. "Look, Roscoe," I said, man-to-man, "I read in the paper that the average American adult owns 4.2 credit cards. The least you could do is to make some oil company happy by putting a tank of gas on the tab."

"I can't afford a car," he said.

"Nonsense," I said. "A snazzy new model could be yours for only $300 a month."

"You mean $10,000," he said.

"That's half-a-year's hard work."

"It's that kind of thinking that keeps you from living in a nice condominium for monthly payments of only $700. What's $700 to you?"

"It's $90,000," he said. "And that's more money than I've ever seen in my life. Do you realize I'd be in hock for the next thirty years?"

"The trouble with you, Roscoe," I said testily, "is that you look upon money as money. Money is not money. Money is a little plastic card that you hand somebody who gives you something and a month later you receive a bill which you pay by check--none of which has anything to do with money."

"I don't care," he said adamantly. "I'm my own man. I don't owe anyone a cent."

"Exactly," I said. "The rest of us Americans are billions of dollars in debt and spend millions on interest payments alone. And if we don't continue spending more than we have, the economists agree there's going to be a big recession. Now are you going to do your duty or aren't you?"

"A penny saved," said Roscoe, folding his arms, "is a penny earned."

Shortly after that we had a family conference about Roscoe's embarrassing attitude toward the American way of credit cards. In the end, we agreed we had no choice. We had him declared incompetent to handle his own affairs and committed to the Bonkers Happy Farm, where they charge $900 a month for his care.

It's a pity. For that kind of money, he could have bought a really great condominium.

COPYRIGHT 1988 National Review, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group