187. Proposition
In the evening, Lance called our rooms and asked to meet me in the lobby. I assumed he wanted to discuss something with me privately rather than in front of the other Brothers and I wondered if it might relate to the fire. It didn’t, not directly.
We found two comfortable chairs off in a corner and sat down.
“You seem to know Lieutenant Panzierone,” I said when a waiter from the bar had brought Lance a white wine and myself a cup of coffee.
“Yes, I’ve been up here a number of times in the past 6 months,” he said.
Surprised, I said nothing.
“It’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said. “Do you and the Brothers necessarily want to stay in the Saugerties area? The reason I ask is that I'd like to help you guys and if you were willing to move you'd have more opportunity."
"What did you have in mind?" I said.
"I bought am old dairy farm about five miles from here, just outside of Utica,” he said. “I had planned to raise thoroughbred horses like a few well known breeders do down our way in Dutchess County, but on much cheaper land up here on the Mohawk."
"I've heard some of the Amish moved here because of land prices," I said.
"Unfortunately, my trainer got a better offer elsewhere and now the farm is just sitting up there," Lance continued. "So I plan to hire a herd manager and start a dairy farm."
"But I've read dairy farming is a losing proposition these days," I said.
"Not for the large operations," he said. "And I plan 500 head in the first stage.”
I was impressed. Lance was probably one of those businessmen who was always trying out one idea or another. It could be cows one week and computers the next, but always with an eye to profits and most often successful.
“Cheap labor would help my balance sheet,” he said. “Like a crew of monks.”
"I don't think any of us know anything about farming," I admitted.
"That's why you're cheap labor," said Lance with a laugh. "I've given this some thought. A couple of the older monks wouldn't have to work. Maybe two more would be on light duty and the rest would be regular farm hands. You could live as a group of Brothers. The herd manager can live off the farm in town if he turns out to be a married guy or if he's single he could live in a separate apartment in the house. It's a huge house!"
"I could talk to the Brothers about it," I said. "Near here?"
"Yes," he replied, "at a place called Mucky Run."
Lance shifted in his chair.
"All of this assumes, of course, that you are in need of a place to stay and to carry on your contemplative practice,” he said. “But you have other options.”
“If so, they’re not obvious,” I said.
“I have a rather involved story to tell you, but the basic idea is that Sparky made provisions for you by working a financial deal and arranged for the Brothers to have about $200,000 dollars.”
I was floored by the news. Here we had done nothing but worry about our finances for I don’t know how long and Sparky comes back from the dead with more money than Croesus.
“This ‘financial deal,’ was it legal?” I asked.
Lance laughed. “Of course, Sparky wasn’t a criminal.”
“Poor Jesse,” I said, “he never knew our salvation was at hand.
“He knew,” said Lance. “He didn’t tell any of the Brothers because he was still trying to decide how to use the money when he died. You should think carefully about the money and how you’ll put it to use.”
The next song is inevitable. I liked the comment appearing with another of the Boss' songs on YouTube: "I wish I was alive in the '80's .... everybody was ugly, but that was acceptable." And a comment beneath this video, "If the Boss wants to put his leg up, the Boss is going to put his leg up." With that .... Bruce Springstein - Glory Days!
