The easiest New Year’s resolution to make and keep is one that you’ve gotten a head start on. Two of the things on my mind (and body) are money and pounds, respectively.
     A few weeks ago in this column I was happy to report that the number of credit cards in our household had dropped from something in the teens to just one. And the corresponding indebtedness is currently about one-fourth of what it was a year ago.

     And some of you have been following the weight loss saga, reported to you in this column each week. I’ve gone from 234 pounds more than a year ago to about 205.
     But on to less weighty issues:
     Never one to read the fine print until after the fact, I dug into what’s behind the scenes when it comes to credit cards. Two of my sons, both with good credit histories, reported coincidental happenings.
     Adam Stan, living in Seattle, reported having interest rates on a card multiply by a factor of about 8 (from 3 percent to about 25 percent). In one billing period. Why? He’d kept current on his payments, but hadn’t realized that no matter how conscientious he was with one card, there are so many other factors.
     A department store credit card automatically renewed his membership after he’d called to cancel. The $29-membership fee soon went into the books, and Stan discovered that one’s credit history is open practically to the entire world. So the major credit card company multiplied his rates on the basis of that the department store company reported.
     The logic appears to be: If you fail to pay another creditor on time, it’s a risk to US.
     It took several certified letters and phone calls to get the error removed.
     A second son, Ben, much newer in the credit game, boasts that he’s never paid a penny of interest because he always pays off balance. Yet, as a matter of principle, he questioned why the 4.9 percent rate he’d been enjoying shot up to 9.9. He called the company and discovered that the fine print gave the company every right to “adjust” its rates, irrespective of payment history.
     As for my own family, well, we’ve paid enough interest over the years to finance several Donald Rumsfeld trips to Iraq to give American troops pep talks.
     So the burdensome balances we’ve carried for years are almost gone. Though we’ve never been part of that crowd that’s overwhelmed by debt, we can easily identify with those who say that tearing up a credit card is like saying good-bye to a friend.
     A former West Las Vegas Schools and Cuba superintendent, Phillip Gonzales, used to prepare tax returns for his staff at Cuba Independent Schools. On my first visit, he warned about the power of whim, in which someone gets rid of a working refrigerator because “It’s the wrong color.” “And some of these people end up paying $1,000 a year in interest alone,” my boss said.
     A thousand dollars out of a salary of $6,000 seemed extreme. By today’s inflated dollars, most people who love to pay only that much in interest.
     An NPR report on credit just last week announced that people who pay off their cards every month, like our son Ben, are “deadbeats.” Waaaiiiittt a moment!
     “Deadbeat” describes the absent father who fails to make his child-support payments, or a guy who takes out a bank loan and becomes cavalier about repaying it.
     Now, according to some in the industry, a “deadbeat” is someone whose financial habits are so good that he doesn’t generate enough profit for the banks and credit card companies.
     It used to be that when one used a credit card, the information went to a central station that handled the transaction. If the card holder was at the credit limit, the deal was refused.
     Now, the fine print allows individuals to go over the limit — the company doesn’t stop them — and is happy to assess a $29 to $35 fee for the privilege. Approximately that same amount gets charged for a late payment; payments by phone are subject to an additional fee. All of this makes it fairly transparent that creditors thrive of fees and penalties.
     As a young man, I borrowed $300 and got visited every month on payday, by the banker whose workplace was next door. He made sure I always paid on time. Once I asked him, “Doesn’t the bank make more profit by charging late fees and penalties?” That’s when the Loan Arranger gave his diatribe on misconceptions on what banks do.
     Yet, as much as one would like to believe that the entire credit world loves a person who pays on time, there has to be a number of hidden reasons credit card companies dislike us “deadbeats.” Discovering how much and to what extent credit card issuers enjoy reaping the benefits of late fees and penalties would be difficult. Apparently, however, they factor in a good portion of their profits, always willing to send a load of blank checks along with the dunning statement, which starts the cycle again.
     Capital One, the enormously successful credit card company whose Vikings ask, “What’s in your wallet?” is being sued by the Minnesota attorney general’s office, claiming it is misleading consumers with promises of “fixed” interest rates which sometimes quadruple overnight. The spikes sometimes occur after a payment arrives one day late.
     Representatives of the four financial institutions in Las Vegas take a radically different view when it comes to benefitting from fees and penalties. Although their business primarily is lending money, as opposed to providing charge cards, the banks can and do assess fees and penalties. All of them — emphatically — prefer payments made promptly.
     Those interviewed are Ray Litherland, vice president of the First National Bank; Christine Ludi, branch manager of the State Employees Credit Union; Gilbert Vallejos, executive vice president of the Bank of Las Vegas; and Ron Williams, president of Wells Fargo.
     Vallejos said, “Fees, late charges and penalties amount to only about $20,000 (a year), which doesn’t even pay our utilities.” Like his counterparts, Vallejos said the BLV tries to avoid socking customers with penalties. He adds, “People in Las Vegas pay unbelievably well.” Christine Ludi said, “We’ll do anything we can before we start putting pressure on them to pay, and that’s after 90 to 120 days.” Stressing that SECU comprises “members, not just account holders,” Ludi said that “most definitely we prefer to have people pay on time.” Fees and penalties constitute “a very small part of our profits,” said Ray Litherland of the First National Bank. “We do have some penalties and late charges, but we just don’t make a lot of money on that.” Williams is aware of the competitive nature of credit card issuers.
     “Everybody wants you to do business with them, but if you’re one day late, the big issue isn’t the $29 fee but that your free interest rate just went up to 20 percent.” How well would businesses fare, for example, if everyone who holds a credit card paid on time? Williams’ assessment is that “if everybody abided by the rules, whoever offered those terms would be going broke.” Williams estimates that up to 8 percent of credit cards never get paid, and he adds that credit card rates tend to be high because they are unsecured credit.
     Apparently, Las Vegans pay up well. One day recently, Vallejos said, he counted only seven accounts out of thousands that were more than 30 days overdue.
     Ludi, SECU branch manager for almost 8 years, said credit unions make their profits through loans and through affiliations with larger credit unions.
     And of course, SECU needs to use discretion, Ludi said, in that “there may be 5 percent of the people we can’t lend to.” In spite of the intense pressure leveled at “the common man,” we Vegans tend to live within our means, pay our bills, put up with that white fridge and forgo the urge to keep up with the Joneses.
     So this year, pay your bills and make sure you know what’s in your wallet.