26 February—The big news in Monday’s Hartford rag, as reported by Emily Olson, was that Litchfield’s illustrious wannabe property magnate Doctor Judge Michael Peloquin has come up with a brilliant new threat—sorry, make that idea—for the 39-acre property Virginia Mortara sold him a few years ago for what was supposed to be an extended-care facility.

No need to rehash the popular doctor judge’s financials. (But type “Peloquin” in the header search field to refresh your memory.) Suffice to say that in October he paid off a $400,000 note to one of his lenders that had been executed only in June. But as of this writing he still has other pending mortgage obligations as well as impressive tax liens from the Internal Revenue Service, the Town of Litchfield, and the Borough of Litchfield on the books. But Peloquin is a survivor.

And his lawsuit against Litchfield’s Planning and Zoning Commission is pending. And his 91 North Street manse, a former mortuary, is once again on the market, this time for $2,850,000.

So what, you may wonder, is Doctor Judge Peloquin’s latest strategy to screw—sorry, impress—Litchfield? As Emily Olson wrote, “the idea is for housing homeless teens who are attending schools in Waterbury.”

“The town of Waterbury, I’m told,” Doctor Judge Peloquin told Emily, “has more than 500 students that are homeless. That disgusts me. That needs to change. So I’m coming in with six buildings for the homeless in Litchfield.”

In the tradition of Donald Trump, Michael Peloquin is short on details. But you wonder if, among lots of other things, the 500 homeless Waterbury kids would become 500 Litchfield residents, with the town forced to foot the bill for their education.

Don’t even think that the good doctor judge, who obviously cares about homeless kids, could pretty easily give homes to perhaps 50 of the poor waifs in his 6,783-square-foot manse with six bedrooms and six bathrooms. Eight to a bedroom, eight to a bath sounds pretty feasible and reasonable in the circumstance. Like a prep school dorm that parents pay outrageously humongous bucks for to get rid of their little darlings . . .