Columnist John Katsilometes: Money’s not all that talks

Monday, June 26, 2000 | 9:53 a.m.

John Katsilometes is the Sun assistant features editor. His column appears Mondays. Reach him at kats@lasvegassun.com or 259-2327.

Mere moments into the seminar a chasm had formed in the group of 30 or so senior citizens seeking financial advice.

There was the Nancy Nash camp -- the camp supporting esteemed, expert, certified elder planner Nancy Nash.

And there was the smaller, but more aggressively skeptical Stanley camp -- the camp supporting a cranky old guy named Stanley.

The site was the Regent Resort Las Vegas-Summerlin (or whatever they're calling it now), the hotel and spa that millions of tourists who visit Las Vegas every year gaze upon while flying into town, wondering, "Who would stay out there?" We were led to a suite on the Regent's third floor, which provided a fabulous view of the grand new Sun Coast resort a couple of miles up the road.

An elder financial planner for 25 years, Nash was on hand to conduct one of her Financial Survival For Seniors workshops. The sessions are designed to help senior citizens protect their savings, maximize their income and be aware of dangerous money traps and other financial dangers.

(Sadly, after the session I overhead one guy in dire need of financial planning say he was going to "make some coin betting the pooches.")

Mine was the second of three seminars held at the Regent last week. As it happened, I shared a table with Stanley. All I can tell you about Stanley is he's a seminar wrecking ball, a lacking-couth know-it-all who plays "Gotcha!" with the speaker and brusquely counters every point made in the presentation.

Nash and Stanley butted heads right away. Nash went to the Ask Countless Rhetorical Questions school of public speaking. She grinned at Stanley and asked, "What do you want to learn today?"

"I don't know," Stanley snapped. "Whatever you're teaching."

Grin: gone.

Nash handed out plastic masks -- she's quite the prop comic, that Nancy -- and had everyone in attendance slip one on. Then she asked everyone to call out a person or organization that had "stolen" money from them, then remove their masks.

"The president!" Stanley said and jerked off his mask. "We need another president!"

Seeming befuddled and trying to work with a dried-out marking pen, Nash then jotted down on a marking board various financial plans, such as mutual funds, stocks, CDs, pension plans and IRAs.

"I don't have a pension," Stanley called out. "I don't have an IRA."

There was a brief argument over the taxability of Social Security. While Nash tried to explain Social Security laws and regulations, Stanley busted in by saying Social Security was only taxable "after a certain level."

Nash sighed, regrouped and asked the group, "What is the only tax category specific to senior citizens?"

"Social Security, but not always," Stanley said. Nash dipped into her prop collection and told Stanley, "You're right! You win a prize!" She then handed Stanley a Beanie Baby. A big crab, in fact.

This went on for the duration of the seminar, an hour or so. When Nash tried to make a point about a type of investment plan that would protect senior citizens against a stock market crash, Stanley said, "That's wrong. How can that be? That's not what my accountant says."

(Nash is not blameless in this. Using a "real-life, famous person" as an example, she spoke of a man who lost a civil judgment of $32 million, but because he had planned for his financial future properly he still earned $25,000, tax-free, per month. When she dramatically told the group it was O.J. Simpson, a sickened groan went up.)

Stanley also asked all sorts of questions, all pertaining to himself. Nash was not about to get into a one-on-one session with him at the expense of the rest of the group and told him, "I don't want to get into specifics or details now. Come into my office and I'll be glad to talk to you about your situation."

"I don't want to come to your office," Stanley said. "You're just trying to get me to come into your office."

Maybe so. Near the end of the session Nash passed out coupons worth a free visit to her office, which usually costs $200 (a cynic would argue that anyone who can afford $200 for a visit to a financial planner might not have serious financial problems).

"She's just trying to make us come to her office," Stanley said, apparently unaware of the absence of shackles, straightjackets, portable jail cells or any other restraining devices that would actually be used to force a member of the audience to be taken to Nash's office.

After the contentious, confusing session, Stanley remarked that Nash was too vague, her strategies made no sense and he hadn't learned a stinkin' thing.

Neither did I, and probably not anyone else, either. There were no judgments to be made on this day and not much financial educating to be found.

Thanks to you-know-who.