There were no credit cards when I was a kid. When you wanted something, you saved the money and bought it when you could pay for it. You always saved enough money to pay for everything you needed. If you didn’t have enough saved, you did without until you did have enough. We didn’t make much money so no one was extravagant.
The bank back home encouraged savings. A banker came to our school and explained how easy it was to build up a savings account, to be used in emergencies. We also had a Christmas Club account set up for us. We deposited the same amount each week, so that when Christmas rolled around, we could afford to buy something. Using money from our savings, my brother and I purchased Springfield .22-caliber, single-shot rifles from the Montgomery Ward catalog.
With the account in our name, we felt an obligation to put money in it every week. Whether we had to pick an extra gallon of blackberries or shovel more sidewalks, the pride of putting money away regularly for a rainy day taught us fiscal discipline.
Some stores had a layaway plan. We put down a deposit and paid regular payments until the item was paid for. There were no credit cards in those days.
Stuff didn’t cost much back then. My dad bought a two-bedroom house from Sears Roebuck for $750.
It was shipped to our town, and relatives, neighbors and friends pitched in and held a home-raising. Sears even offered a short-term mortgage.
Then came the credit card avalanche. People went brain-dead, surmising that they could buy everything they had ever wanted. Commercialism inveigled its way into our psyche.
Businesses blossomed until the credit card was maxed out. The solution to indebtedness was to get another credit card — ad infinitum.
People now are obsessed with their credit score. If you don’t owe anything or intend to buy something, who cares?
I conducted a seminar on fiscal responsibility for a group of seniors. I asked how many credit cards each had. One lady admitted to having seven. I asked why. She said, “Just in case.”
It is understandable that if someone wants to own a house, a mortgage is a necessary burden. However, beyond that, society is awash in frivolous debt. It’s difficult to retrench after years of extravagant living. It takes an attitudinal refresher course.
The next time you are tempted to buy something, go home first and have a cup of coffee or tea and ask yourself, “Do I really, really, really need that thing or do I just want it?”
If you have to charge it on an already-overloaded credit card, you are probably better off to make do without it until you save enough to afford it.
That’s fiscal sanity.
Bill York, a retired furrier, lives in Stone Mountain.
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