BORN-AGAIN SAVER KICKS THE PLASTIC.

Byline: Carol Bidwell Staff Writer

I knew I was in trouble when the man I hoped would be my money savior leaned across the table, looked deep into my eyes and said softly, ``Right now, the only thing you're financially equipped to do is die.''

Those words, coming from my newly hired financial adviser, would have sent me out onto the ledge of his 14-story office if he hadn't promised, just minutes before, that - for a fee - he'd help me turn my hash of a financial life into Grade A prime rib. Or at least help me get myself to where I wasn't waiting for my income tax refund to buy a new pair of sneakers.

He also promised to help me find a way to stash some bucks for retirement - that not-too-far-off dreaded future, that time I tried not to think about - when gray, feeble and no longer able to support myself, I would wrestle with stray cats over kibble left by sympathetic animal lovers before curling up in my cardboard box in an alley.

And, he vowed, if I wanted a house - my longtime, out-of-reach dream - he'd find a way for me to get that, too.

There was only one drawback. I'd have to become an adult where money was concerned. I'd have to do the work. I'd have to save the money.

I knew there had to be a catch.

Well, I figured, it was about time. After all, I'd had a lot of practice with somebody else's cash. During my mother's three-year incapacity, I took over her finances, and during her final six-month illness, I navigated the minefield of Medicare, Medi-Cal, health insurance, prescription benefits, Social Security and pensions. Oh, and insurance benefits, which - thanks to Mom - gave me enough cash to hire the man I was hoping would be my financial wizard.

I was in serious need of a wizard where money was concerned. Middle-aged and single, with three hungry cats to feed, a job where the raises are minuscule, sky-high credit card debt and retirement looming on the horizon, it became apparent even to me that the time had come to take charge of my financial life.

Until I was nearing 50, I never worried about money. The paycheck came; I paid the bills. If I ran out of money before I ran out of month, I used a credit card. A lot. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I figured something magical would happen, and the money would always be there.

But it became apparent after I hit the half-century mark that Prince Charming had stopped at another castle, that the Publishers Clearing House prize patrol had gone to another neighborhood and that I was more likely to be taken hostage by terrorists than to win the lottery.

So I gritted my teeth and, in a rare burst of grownupness, put the minimum allowed into the company's 401(k) plan. What a concept - money that worked for me instead of me working for money! When I got my next raise, it all went into the 401(k). Still, the credit card debt mounted. (After all, when you find a really good sale, nobody expects you NOT to buy the blouse in every color.)

They say we learn to handle money by watching our parents. My mistake was that, rather than keeping an eye on my frugal mother, I modeled myself after my father, an unrepentant spendthrift.

When I was 10, my father let me decide whether I would rather get an allowance or just be able to keep asking for money. I chose an allowance, which seemed very grown-up. He forked over the dough - something like 50 or 75 cents back then, in the mid-1950s - and I dashed out of the house feeling like Diamond Jim Brady. The next 24 hours were a blur, but I do recall telling my dad the next day that this allowance thing just wasn't working and I needed more money, please.

That was the beginning of my love affair with figuring that when I needed money, it would miraculously appear. When I moved into my first apartment and the Bank of Dad became unavailable, I discovered credit cards.

I remember my first one: It had barely come out of the envelope, with its $200 credit limit, when I had spent half that on a new sewing machine - and I still had ``money'' to spend. Of course, there were those pesky monthly payments, but they were only $5 or so ... forever.

Credit, as we all know, begets credit. Soon there were two cards in my wallet, then four, then eight, then a dozen or more. I was in great financial shape, I reasoned, or all these banks wouldn't want to give me credit.

It's the same reasoning as thinking you should still have money in the bank because you have checks left.

It was then I learned about consolidation loans. Take out a loan. Pay off the credit cards. What could be easier? Nobody told me not to keep using the credit cards. Two consolidation loans later, I was paying off maxed-out credit cards plus consolidation loans.

Finally becoming a bit worried, I sat down with pen and paper - and figured out I would have to live to be 184 years old to pay off all my debt one minimum payment at a time.

Then, into my life wafted a small postcard. Would you be interested, it asked, in information on retirement planning? I'd be more interested in having a lot of money, I thought, but filled out the postcard and dropped it in the mail. A few days later, my money wizard called, and we made an appointment to meet in person the next week. After spilling my financial guts to him for an hour for free, I wrote him a check. Suddenly, for the next year, I had a financial adviser, somebody who would tell me what to do to (a) get out of debt, (b) buy a house and (c) sock away enough money that, along with Social Security, I could live a modest but comfortable life after retirement at age 70.

Rule No. 1, he explained: Pay yourself first. Set aside money for saving and investing.

Rule No. 2: Put away the credit cards. Pay them off. Cut them up. Close the accounts.

Rule No. 3: It's up to you how to cope after Rule No. 1 and 2.

Swallowing hard, I wrote him my first check for $100 to invest. But not yet willing to give up those hard-earned cards, I zipped them inside a hidden compartment in my wallet, determined not to touch them. I would live on a cash-only basis, I promised both my financial guru and myself.

By the end of the first week, I discovered, frugal wasn't the word for what life had become. It was like the first days on my first real job in my first apartment - just scrabbling to keep things together. To keep solvent after the cash ran out, I had sold a half-dozen virtually unopened coffee- table books (yield: $8) at a used-book store and returned a Christmas present for somebody I figured didn't need another doodad ($12). Emptying my piggy bank and rolling the coins yielded another $7.

I made it through the week without once (1) eating out, (2) spending money in a bookstore, (3) buying clothes I didn't need or (4) using a credit card.

I had spent the week checking out the library, cooking and eating meals at home, visiting museums on free-admission days and digging deep into my closet for perfectly good, but forgotten, items of clothing. I also cleaned. A lot. It kept me from shopping.

The second week was easier. And by the third week, saving money had become a challenge. I took $20 - instead of my usual $40 or $60 - out of the ATM and challenged myself to see how long I could go without breaking the bill. I drove past stores and repeated to myself, There's nothing you need in there. I ate before I went to the Laundromat rather than going through the drive-through line for a burger and fries. I took lunch to work.

Gradually, I began to see results. It became easier and easier, with my newfound thriftiness, to come up with cash to invest once a month. By the second month, I was sending him a few extra bucks, then a few more.

I surfed the Web looking for money-saving tips and haunted the financial section of the library for new books on frugality and investments. I began to pay off one credit card after another. Saving money was fun. Having money in the bank, in mutual funds, was fun. Who knew?

``I've never seen such a change in a person where money is concerned,'' my financial guru marveled months later as I presented him with the evidence of paid-off credit card after paid-off credit card - 12 total - and closed account after closed account.

I told him I'd found the magic words in one of the money books I'd read: When you're saving for something you really want, it's not deprivation - doing without. It's sacrifice - giving up something you want for something you want even more. In the long run, I never missed the fast-food burgers or the new best seller. I love watching my investments grow. And I can't wait to spend the first night in my new house.

DO-IT-YOURSELF PLANNING

Here are some helpful ways to start getting your finances in order:

Books

--``The Millionaire Next Door: The Surprising Secrets of America's Wealthy'' by Thomas J. Stanley and William D. Danko (Mass Market Paperback).

--``Wealth Happens One Day at a Time: 365 Days to a Brighter Financial Future'' by Brooke M. Stephens (HarperBooks).

--``Nine Steps to Financial Freedom: Practical and Spiritual Steps So You Can Stop Worrying'' by Suze Orman (Three Rivers Press).

--``The Complete Idiot's Guide to Beating Debt,'' by Steven D. Straussand Azriela Jaffe (Alpha Books).

Need personal advice?

--Institute for Certified Financial Planners at www.icfp.org.

--National Institute of Personal Financial Advisors at www.napfa.org.

--International Association of Financial Planning at www.iafp.org.

Investing advice

--Check out www.investorhome.com for links to more than 60 Web sites that provide information about stocks and mutual funds.

--To straighten out credit card debt, try Consumer Credit Counseling Service at www.cccsintl.org.

--If your spending is truly more than you can handle, check in with Debtors Anonymous at www.solvency.com.

If you're committed to put yourself on a financial diet, but need a menu of options, these Web sites can give you some ideas on how to save money:

--www.frugalgazette.com

--www.allthingsfrugal.com

--www.stretcher.com

--Also try www.oprah.com and click on ``money'' or ``finances.''

GET IT TOGETHER

You're committed to straightening out your finances but don't know where to start? Here are some tips to follow:

1. Make a financial plan. You have to know what your income is and what you spend your money on before you can figure out how to cut back. There are Web sites and computer software to help you. Or consider hiring a financial adviser.

2. Once you have a plan, follow it. Don't ``forget'' to save each month. You may want to arrange for your employer to take an automatic deduction from each paycheck for a 401(k) or other savings or retirement plan. Put loose change in a piggy bank, roll the coins and put them in a savings account. Pay yourself each time you don't buy a burger, you lose a pound or you forgo a pack of cigarettes.

3. Put away your credit cards. Make a plan for paying them off one by one. You may need to consult with a consumer credit counselor. Once one is paid off, add what you've been paying on that card to the payment on the next one. When a card is paid off, write a letter to the company asking that your account be closed. Cut up your credit card and send it along with the letter. It's a good idea to keep a gasoline card - you don't want to get stranded - and one bank card; it's hard to rent a car or a hotel room without one. But the rule is, you must pay off whatever you charge in full when the bill comes.

4. Learn the difference between something you want and something you need. You want a new CD, but you need to pay the gas bill. You want to spend a bundle on a vacation, but you need a new set of tires for the car. Those decisions can become easier to make once you're on a cash-only regime.

5. Start an investment plan. Go to the library for advice, consult a knowledgeable friend, read the newspaper, go online for advice. As you save money, put some of it in an interest-bearing account of some kind: a CD, a money market account, mutual funds, stocks, bonds. Invest steadily, even if you can only afford to invest a few dollars at a time.

6. Remind yourself why you're saving and investing money. If you want to send your kid to a good college, make sure his photo is on your desk. Pick up travel brochures for your dream vacation. Start clipping photos out of magazines to give you an idea of a house you want. Find a saying or a piece of wisdom to help you strengthen your resolve and tuck it into your wallet where you'll see it before you spend money.

7. Think hard about your tolerance for frugality. Are you willing to drive an older car? Do without a cell phone? Bring your lunch? Buy fewer holiday gifts? Can you bypass a bookstore or a sale? Are there things you're not willing to give up? Find a way to fit them into your spending plan without going overboard.

8. Tell those near and dear to you what you're doing so they'll know front-row concert tickets are a no-no, and so is a weekend away in San Francisco with wine flowing. Warn them not to tempt you. Warn them that birthday and Christmas gifts will be modest. They'll be amused, then eventually ask for advice as they see you succeed.

9. Stop shopping via mail-order catalogs unless you can pay cash or pay off the credit card bill in full when it comes. If you belong to a book club or a record club, mark the don't-send box on the return card before you open the catalog. If you see something you'd like to read or listen to, see if it's available for free at the library.

10. See what you own that others might be willing to pay for. You may have the makings of a great garage or yard sale. A closetful of nearly new clothes you don't wear could yield extra money at a consignment store. Used-book stores sell or trade for second-hand books they can resell. Antiques stores will buy 1950s evening bags, Depression glass and silver items.

11. Clip coupons. Use them when items are on sale at the supermarket and it's double-coupon day. Join supermarket savings clubs and look for grocery coupons on the Internet. Check the mail for half-price meals at local eateries, savings on lube jobs and smog checks, local crafts boutiques. Go to half-price matinees rather than full-price evening movies.

12. Learn to cook and make it a hobby. Fresh fruits and vegetables are cheaper and better for you than prepackaged meals, and even frozen dinners are cheaper than restaurant meals. Cook pots of soup, stews and casseroles, and portion them out. Take some to work for lunch. Freeze other portions for meals in a week or a month.

13. Plant a garden or even just a few tomato plants. The vegetables taste better fresh and they're better for you, and the exercise you get tilling and weeding can replace an expensive gym membership. If you have extra tomatoes, you can trade with a neighbor for zucchini - or maybe for an oil change or a freshly typed resume.

14. Ferret out all the little ways you waste - and can save - money. Use half as much toothpaste. Pour smaller glasses of milk. Don't let food spoil in the fridge. Buy unleaded, not premium, gas - and how about driving two extra blocks to get it 20 cents cheaper a gallon? Bring your own can of cola from home instead of buying that $1.25 bottle from the vending machine at work every afternoon.

15. Find something else to do besides shop. Take up needlework or painting or running or sculpting or quilting. Go to a free concert or a museum. Check out fee-free videos and audiotapes, as well as books and magazines, from the library. Take a class at a home-improvement store and learn to maintain your fence, unclog your toilet, regrout your bathroom tile. Learn auto repair or how to reupholster a chair. Meet your neighbors. Walk the dog. Brush the cat.

16. Once you're on track financially, don't forget to reward yourself every so often. Just as if you were on a diet, constant deprivation can suck the life out of your resolve. But don't go overboard. Get a manicure. Or rent a video. Or buy a new lipstick. Or go to a nice sit-down lunch with a friend. Just keep your reward to $20 or so. And tackle your finances with new resolve, knowing there are bigger rewards just around the corner.

- Carol Bidwell

CAPTION(S):

photo, 2 boxes

Photo: (color) no caption (Carol Bidwell)

Box: (1) GET IT TOGETHER (See text)

(2) DO-IT-YOURSELF PLANNING (See text)