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No one seems to talk about it anymore, but there it sits, like an embarrassing uncle, a former scout leader who shows up uninvited to Thanksgiving dinner after doing time for rubbing more than a couple of sticks together. Alameda Point, 1,500 fallow acres of the overgrown Bay Area, once had politicians and developers drooling like Pavlov's dogs during a cable car bell-ringing contest. Sure, there's the antiques fair, wineries, gyms and a breathlessly hopeful plan to get Lawrence Berkeley Labs to follow a trail of fi nancial cracker crumbs through the Webster Tube, but these are just stopgap answers to a larger question: "How can we fi ll up all that empty space?"

Regular Alamedans have some interesting notions. My neighbors, a pair of rabid sports fans, suggest that we build a stadium, and start a minor league baseball team called the "Alameda Anchors." Having grown up in Brooklyn witnessing the psychological devastation wrought by the loss of a beloved home team, I really like this idea, but raising funds for a new stadium could prove tricky. Just across from Bay Farm Island, an old one may soon be available.

Formula One auto racing is hot right now. It rakes in piles of cash from ticket sales, television rights, and sponsorship deals for participants and host cities alike. There are plans for new tracks in Weehawken, N.J. and Austin, but it doesn't take Nostradamus to foresee trouble looming. In New Jersey there'd be wheels and tires disappearing during pit stops, and as for Texas, they're liable to secede, any time. So, why not a Grand Prix d'Alameda? Beautiful San Francisco Bay and the Berkeley Hills provide a photogenic backdrop, and the Point is already paved. Of course, our 25 mph speed limit could put a damper on fan enthusiasm.

My altruistic wife thinks Alameda Point should be a veterans' facility offering housing, education and rehabilitation for wounded and homeless men and women who have given everything for their country. Yeah, right. This is 2011, when the Feds are trying to sell 387 acres in West Los Angelos, deeded in 1887 for this very purpose. Let them even hear of her plan, and we'll wind up with a private country club or some sprawling eyesore from Donald Trump. What Alameda needs is a big, "outside- the-box" scheme that will a) pretend to serve our community, b) bring in tons of cash, and c) confuse future archeologists.

SunCal came close with their guess-the-details, 21st Century version of Levittown that proved almost as popular as anthrax. They just weren't bold enough. If you want a small town to buy into an expensive, overcrowded development, you'll need a slick video with computer animation, upbeat music, and happy actors enjoying high-tech homes and verdant parks and ball fi elds.

Oh — don't forget the rides. A promised Maglev into the city, electric vehicles, and an attached mall with glass elevators are worth lots of points.

Selling any big plan for Alameda Point requires a positive attitude. If pizza sauce is now a vegetable, why not spin all the nasty stuff left over from the old Naval Air Station?

Asbestos in the ground? It prevents wildfi res. More oil spilled than the Exxon Valdez? Pop in a few fake dinosaurs, and voila — the La Brea Tar Pits, North!

Depleted uranium and radium? You can read in bed by the light of your cat. Methane seeping from your street? Free natural gas to heat your house or blow-up your creepy neighbors without paying PG&E to do either.

So, why not go the distance, and turn Alameda Point into a real theme park? Fifty years ago New York had "Freedomland USA", an America-shaped, technicolor jewel that allowed tourists to experience our country as it never was. Of course, any new version would have to tweak that 1950s, rosetinted optimism to refl ect today's downsized reality.

Crumbling infrastructure, global terrorism, endless war, mass unemployment, home foreclosures, Wall Street devouring our pensions — the opportunities for fun are endless. All we need now is the perfect name for our 21st Century, virtual reality perspective on the American Dream. Only one problem — "Neverland" has already been taken.

Richard B. Eckhaus is an Alameda resident.