A time to talk: Financial seminars can illuminate marital differences

Mary Magee

guest columnist

At a certain age, one receives all kinds of invitations in the mail from financial planners. Those invitations usually involve a free lunch or dinner, coupled with advice from experts who say they know how to help you become wealthy and/or how to protect your nest egg.

I shouldn’t use the words “nest egg,” because it reminds me of the hilarious 1985 movie, “Lost in America.” In it, a yuppie couple sells their home, quits their jobs and buys a huge Winnebago with the intention of being free and traveling across America.

Unfortunately, they make a stop in Las Vegas, where the wife gambles away their entire savings. In desperation, her husband goes to the casino owner and tries to cajole him into returning their money as a goodwill gesture.

Yeah, right!

For the next several days, the husband scolds his wife, telling her never to use the term “nest egg” again. In fact, he forbids her to use either word, ever.

I’d never be as careless with our assets as she was, yet every time I express interest in one of those free seminar invitations, my husband growls at me.

You’d think I’d run amok with money over the years. I never have. I’m not a big shopper or spender. We always discuss important financial decisions.

Still, he seems to fear that if I attend any of those promotional seminars I’d fall prey to someone like Bernie Madoff, or I’d come back pushing some harebrained plan.

I guess I should own up to the fact that I do tend to get a bit wide-eyed. During a stay in Hawaii a couple of years ago, we attended an obligatory timeshare presentation. What should have been a brief interview turned into a lengthy pitch.

My eyes grew like saucers when the presenter showed us a huge world map display that lit up all of the resort locations at the touch of a button.

Wow! I always knew I wanted a condo in southern Spain!

Finally, the salesman asked each of us where we were on a scale of one to 10 in terms of buying. I told him I was at an eight.

My husband looked him squarely in the eye and said, “two.” The poor man blanched. No sale for him; no condo in Spain for us.

So anyway, in a show of independence, I recently signed up for a seminar. If my husband wouldn’t accompany me, I’d just go it alone. Maybe I’d even learn something.

On the way out the door, I reassured him I wouldn’t be giving away our bank account or social security numbers — at least not in the first hour. I was careful not to use the term nest egg!

At the seminar, I noticed the group was a mix of “mature” couples and individual men and women, so I didn’t feel out of place. I was given a notebook that outlined the important information the speaker wanted to impart. His credentials indicated he was an estate planner, so his focus would be on wills, trusts, life insurance and long-term care. Fun stuff.

I thought the presentation was informative, and it helped me understand which issues are important to be aware of.

At the end, I shook the speaker’s hand and thanked him. He acknowledged my compliment, then he looked me squarely in the eye and said, “I don’t usually see people as young as you attending my seminars.”

In the blink of an eye, I eagerly handed him all of our financial information, and I signed our lives away.

Please don’t tell my husband.

A Time To Talk columnist Mary Magee can be reached by e-mail at marymagee@harbornet.com.