The business pages these past months have been filled with news about banks in my part of the country - New England - showing some interesting losses. Like, oh, about $1 billion or two.
Per quarter.I can understand how S&Ls could manage to lose a few billion. Most of them were run by high-rolling cowboys whose idea of prudent investment was sinking widows' life savings into junk bonds floated by guys with names like Campeau. Not to mention that the government forgot to regulate them.
But banks? Banks are supposed to be icons of conservatism. They scowl at anyone who asks for a loan, forcing you to put your house and firstborn male child up as collateral before they give you one. How is it possible that such organizations can be going into the tank?
Today, I know why. My symbol is a major Boston bank called Shawmut, which at last count had logged more than $1 billion in bad loans. Had you just blown $1 billion that way, you'd doubtless be careful who you lent money to in the future. Shawmut, apparently, has not learned its lesson. I know this for three reasons.
One, I am a terrible credit risk who is routinely late on payments.
Two, I've never asked Shawmut for anything.
Three, they nevertheless just sent me the following letter: "Dear Mr. Patinkin: You're already pre-approved for a $5,000 credit line."
This is like seeking out a developer just driven into Chapter 11 by a backlog of 200 unsold condos, giving him $10 million and saying, "Here, build another 200 on us."
Had Shawmut asked around, they'd have found some reasons to think twice about begging me to take $5,000 off their hands.
Such as that I still hold the title as all-time notice-of-insufficient-funds king of my local bank. This results from my being one of those people who is genetically incapable of balancing a checkbook. I don't even record what checks I'm writing. I just kind of wing it. Which would be fine, except that I tend to spend more than I have, a habit I got from my father whose theory of finance was: Why defer life by hoarding all your money for your kids until you're too old to even see them enjoy it? Spend it now.
I do.
Result: notices of insufficient funds.
Not to mention that cash machines are constantly spitting my card back at me and flashing phrases like: "See teller." At which point everyone in line pulls their children away from me because it's obvious that people who don't put an envelope into an auto-teller, and don't get money out, are in some kind of trouble and should not be associated with.
Had Shawmut asked around, they'd have also learned about my relationship with American Express. Amex may well be one of the most respected firms in finance, but they don't recruit at Harvard Business school. They prefer people who got their training in the same field Sylvester Stallone pursued when he wasn't boxing in the first Rocky movie.
If you are more than 20 minutes late with a payment, Amex immediately sends you an ominous looking letter with the words, "Urgent Matter," on the outside. It's clear such letters are not a special offer of discount life insurance. Inside, the message is to the point: "You are abusing your privilege. If you do not pay immediately, this matter will be turned over to a collection agency." The signature, most ominous of all, never includes a first name, just an initial. It's always someone like, "L. Brasi." Most people get one of these letters and never pay late again.
I've gotten about 10.
I've also gotten a letter from the IRS threatening to repossess my house if I didn't pay. I should add that all they wanted me to pay was $25.50. As in twenty-five dollars. Not a major problem; just a good symbol of my habit of letting bills slide.
And still, Shawmut pre-approves me for $5,000. My letter from Shawmut was signed by one Karen Beach, vice president.
"You deserve this card and we want you to have it," Beach wrote. "You'll never be caught short of cash again."
No, Karen, but Shawmut will.
Send the card.
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Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service