The proposed casinos were all boxes, boxes, boxes. Styled in oh-so-tasteful Olde Tyme or Retro or Futurama themes, they were warehouses lined with slot machines, all carefully engineered to produce more losers than winners. In the last wicked twist of the industrial revolution, we're planning factories that manufacture poverty.

For the rest of us, who actually live here, we will get a path along the river. But to get there, we'll have to schlep around the boxes and dance with the traffic cutting conga-lines in our neighborhoods.

This is not my wudderfront. Philadelphia can do much better.

About 400 people—yes, who actually live here—came recently to the Convention Center to review the casino plans, hear from a panel of experts and attempt to have some small say. Even the mayor appeared. He popped in to bless the effort but quickly left before the groaning swelled. The audience had been asked to be polite, but soon joined the panel of urban planners in pillorying the proposals.

If Street, Councilman Frank DiCicco and Gov. Ed Rendell had been around a century or so ago, the banks of the Schuylkill River today would be lined with Burger Kings. And should this city cut itself off from the Delaware and these casinos infect the neighborhoods, our children will have these guys to thank.

But so far, the triumvirate isn't listening. And if they have their way, they won't have to. Duck and cover, it's time for another nonprofit. The Penn's Landing Corporation worked so well that Street, DiCicco and Rendell are planning yet another political puppet show.

Still, I'm an optimist. There's a decent chance that the casinos will be defeated or scaled back. And the activists I'm betting on are the media-savvy Neighbors Allied for the Best Riverfront (www.nabrhood.org), who have galvanized support against casinos in the river wards and now are reaching into South Philly. I hope East Falls is next.

Since the Mayor has effectively neutered the City Planning Commission, there is no city planning for development or for transportation. So NABR and other groups are jumping into the breach. NABR has already met a couple of times with the William Penn Foundation, which has funded community-based plans for West Philly and Chinatown. In addition, the influential Pennsylvania Environmental Council has also started shopping around its own vision for the waterfront.

So here's my modest proposal: We should do to the casinos what we do with other nasty things. Bury them. Gaming parlors don't have windows anyway, so why waste good space in the sunlight? Underground, at least casinos would be more sustainable: cheaper to heat and cool and much simpler to secure. And during storms or missile attacks, patrons will already be safely ensconced.

And while we're at it, here's my secret plan to tame the casino cars. Simple. Let's not have cars. They don't let you drive through Disneyland, do they? And millions still come from all over. So make gamblers park somewhere else and have the casino accessible by bus or ferry from Jersey. They like cars there.

But, wait, there's more: On top of the casinos, we'll have public parks that will reconnect the city with the river, as cities around the world are doing. Money? No problem. Chicago built Millennium Park—a huge green space with an outdoor amphitheater and a botanical garden—right in the center of the city. And how did they pay for it? Buried underneath the park is a massive parking garage. You bury what you want off the streets, and you make money doing it.

OK, I know this sounds like Fritz Lang's Metropolis—where the wealthy dance in the sun while workers slave below. But consider the lovely contemporary symbolism: Instead of subterranean workers jerking giant levers, we'll have gamblers yanking on slots. And when the suckers tire of their underground hell, we will still allow them to climb up for some fresh air.

Look, I know underground casinos aren't practical. But when you think about, is it any less idiotic than the current ugly, unsustainable schemes?

Philadelphia can do better.