COLUMBUS _ We were packed into the van, going to see Cousin Bruce's new land on a cloudy spring day.
``So, I couldn't figure out what to do with the money,'' he said from the shotgun seat. ``Never had any money before.''
``You had money,'' Buddy corrected him, from way back in the third seat. ``You bought me Lincoln Logs for Christmas.''
``True,'' said Cousin Bruce. ``But I'm talking about enough money to buy real logs.''
``I'll sell you some real logs,'' I said.
``Nope. Spending almost every cent on this land,'' said Cousin Bruce. ``Then I'll pitch a tent on it this summer and try to build something before it gets cold.''
``We can help you,'' said Uncle Chet.
``I can hardly wait to see it,'' said Hon. ``Imagine Bruce moving to the country.''
``We're getting close,'' said Bruce, who hails from Springfield, Mass. ``I saw it on the Internet last week, then drove out here to check to see.''
``And never even stopped in,'' said the little miscreant, his favorite niece.
``No, but if I move out here, I'll be stopping in a lot more often,'' said Bruce. ``I only got the money last Monday when I turned 50. And by Tuesday, I was on to this land. I was trying to figure out what to do with my little nest egg when inflation's at 10 percent.''
``Is it that bad?'' I asked.
``Only if you eat, or buy gasoline,'' said Uncle Chet, who was at the wheel in a captain's chair. ``Of course, the government says it's much less, because they don't want you to panic.''
``So I asked myself: `What do you invest in, when you're going through inflation and recession at the same time?''' said Cousin Bruce as we tooled along the river road.
``Something people need,'' said Hon.
``Something undervalued,'' I said.
``Something with intrinsic value,'' said Uncle Chet, slowing down by the real-estate sign. ``Is this it?''
``This is it,'' said Bruce and we pulled onto the grass, peering out the windows at a wide field rolling down to the winding river.
``It's beautiful!'' said the little miscreant. ``Let's get out!''
Across the river, the rich, dark bottom land was plowed up and behind it rose the wooded foothills.
``It is nice,'' said Hon as she stepped onto the grass and the sun peeked out.
``This is great,'' I told Bruce. ``You're going to like this a lot better than living on the 32nd floor, listening to sirens all night.''
``I'll adjust,'' he surveyed his new ground. ``After I saw it, I just knew I had to get it before the Chinese take over.''
We walked down the gentle slope toward the willows that line the riverbank.
``How far over does it go?'' asked Uncle Chet.
``It's about 500 feet wide, but I haven't found the markers yet,'' said Cousin Bruce.
``Probably one in that hedge row,'' Uncle Chet pointed, and the party changed course, now bound for a corner.
``When I found out I was getting this money, I thought of buying gold,'' said Bruce. ``But I don't get how they price it, how it goes from $400 to $900 and back again. And I thought of stock, but stock scares me after Enron. Who knows if these companies are telling the truth, or just trying to soak us? I think solar's going to take off, but who's good, who's bad; it could take a month of Sundays to understand, and even then I'd probably be wrong.''
``You could have bought bonds,'' said Hon. ``Then, at least you'd know what you're getting.''
``Or T-bills,'' I said, ``but the interest is less than inflation.''
``Or ice cream,'' said Buddy.
``Or you could have invested in my college education,'' said the little miscreant. ``But I'm glad you didn't; I like this.''
Uncle Chet halted, looked up toward the road, then spun slowly back to the river.
``If you got a fair price, you made a smart choice,'' he told his younger cousin. ``Hang onto this, even if you have to burrow into the side of it, and 10 years from now they'll say you stole it.''
``So, how much did you steal it for?'' asked the little miscreant.
"Now that's none of your business,'' I told her sharply, then wheeled to him. ``But of course, if you want to, you can tell me.''
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Cooperstown News Bureau Reporter Tom Grace is traveling with his Uncle Chet, who he says is imaginary. Grace's column appears every other week.
