Give him credit for living on cash

STEVE SMITH

A couple of days ago, Paul Griffiths tried to check in at the Hyatt

Grand Cypress Hotel in Orlando, Fla.

At the reception desk, he was asked for a credit card against

which the hotel would charge any “incidentals.”

“What incidentals?” Griffiths asked.

“The mini-bar,” replied the receptionist.

“I won’t use it,” Griffiths replied.

Unfazed, the receptionist countered with, “The telephone.”

“I have a cellphone,” Griffiths said.

Exasperated by Griffiths’ logic, the receptionist fell back on

what she thought was her bulletproof finale, the one comeback that

stops guests in their tracks.

“It’s a hotel policy,” she said.

That was the wrong answer to the wrong man. Paul Griffiths, you

see, has not used a credit card in several years and refuses to cave

in to the credit lifestyle.

The road to debt-free living has had a lot of twists and turns for

Griffiths, who has been married for 12 years and has two children, a

girl, 10, and a boy, 6.

Along the way, he has learned how to live in a country that runs

on credit, one that measures success not in health or peace of mind

but in dollars and cents.

“When I was 26 and single, I was living in England and working as

an X-ray technician,” Griffiths said. “I lived in a run-down flat and

owned a bicycle and two pair of jeans. I was always broke four days

after payday.”

In England, Griffiths’ lifestyle meant that he lived on the

overdraft protection provided by his bank.

“One day, I went into the bank and tried to cash a check. The

teller told me that the manager would like to speak to me,” Griffiths

told me.

At their meeting, the manager pointed out Griffiths’ many

overdrafts and said, “You are living beyond your means.”

To a guy with nothing, the comment was comical, but it started

Griffiths thinking about a way of life that would take him many years

to implement.

Along the way, Griffiths ran up excessive credit card debt for

things he and his wife wanted, not what they needed. Eventually, the

Griffiths paid off their debt, amassed some more and paid that off,

too.

It was the last battle with debt that inspired the Griffiths.

“I had just lost my job and that began a downward spiral. I became

angry at myself and that pushed me over the edge.”

The edge Griffiths fell off of landed him into a pact he made with

his wife to live a life so that if either of them lost their job,

they would still be OK financially.

Listening to Griffiths, there is no doubt that he has made certain

sacrifices and compromises along the way. But he has also achieved

financial peace and managed to teach his children the most important

lessons about money.

“One day, I picked my daughter up from school and noticed that she

was upset. When I asked her why, she said that a girl at school was

laughing at her because their family car was ‘messed up.’”

So Griffiths had this exchange with his daughter.

“What kind of car does her daddy drive?” He asked.

“A Hummer,” replied his daughter.

Griffiths explained that they completely owned their family car,

but the other girl’s father did not -- he was still making payments

to the bank, which was the real owner of the Hummer.

“Who’s laughing now?” he asked her.

Now, Griffiths pays cash for everything, and while the choice does

create certain inconveniences, such as the one at the hotel, they are

minor.

Now, instead of longing for things, he has gained a sense of

freedom experienced by fewer and fewer Americans. Along with the

financial burdens we carry comes the price of a higher divorce rate,

with money issues being one of the chief causes.

In America, too many of us are living beyond our means, which

forces us to make bad choices about our lives and the lives of those

we love, including the choice that sends both parents off to work,

while a stranger raises their kids in day care.

Eventually, Paul Griffiths reached a suitable compromise with the

Florida hotel. But the inconvenience only strengthened his resolve to

continue to provide for his family, even if providing means doing

without.

* STEVE SMITH is a Costa Mesa resident and a freelance writer.

Readers may leave a message for him on the Daily Pilot hotline at

(714) 966-4664.