People always say "Washington, DC needs a good/better ______", with bagel, pizza, taxis, night life, etc usually filling the blank. Among other things, DC needs a better boat. The Tidal Basin paddle boats come to mind as the unofficial city boat, especially at this time of year with the cherry trees in bloom. I think the blue and white, plastic and fiberglass contraptions are less than adequate for the job, when compared to the much nicer boats associated with other cities.

Boston has those quirky, elegant Swan Boats, while Oxford offers punting in flat-bottomed wooden boats. Venice of course is synonymous with the sleek black gondola, made of expensive woods in a time-honored technique. There are the reed boats of Lake Titicaca, as well as the gondola-like Luzzu of Malta. What they all have in common is that they are beautiful and made of fine materials, while our paddle boats are the equivalent of the cheap white plastic patio chair, perfectly cromulent, but, you know, a bit lacking. I think we should replace them with something better.

On the other hand, I can't think of any nicer type of boat that would be suitable for tourist use on the Tidal Basin. A design competition could be held, with the requirements being the use of an eco-friendly wood for the hull, with highly polished metal fittings. A simple, elegant design would be best. Each boat could have a figurehead based on a different President. Or, they could be over-engineered hovercraft, commissioned from Northrop-Grumman, with GPS systems, radar, and a complex propulsion system prone to breakdown on board, to showcase our nation's efficient system of government/military contracts. Hmm, come to think of it, we could end up with native-American style canoes sponsored by the Washington Redskins. Maybe the blue and white paddle boats aren't so bad after all?

The new Madame Tussauds location in DC can't be doing very well, judging by the absence of customers. Unlike the International Spy Museum, there are never any tourists lined up outside. I walk by both facilities on F Street NW every day, and the contrast is striking.

By all accounts, Madame Tussauds is a smallish, low-key affair in a tastefully restored historic building. It blends in all too well with official Washington. Even the Marion Barry figure is supposed to be blandly posed and attired (no crack pipes!).

In order to boost attendance, if I were them, I'd quickly add new exhibits to mirror current events, and make the exhibits much more lurid. Right now, they should have their best wax artisans replicating Room 871 of the Mayflower Hotel, with a figure of NY Governor Eliot Spitzer wearing a robe, taking cash out of his wallet. On the robe is a monogrammed "Client #9." On the bed, a lingerie-clad wax figure of "Kristen" from Emperors Club VIP reclines; her appearance can only be based on the vague description from the FBI affidavit "petite, very pretty brunette, 5 feet 5 inches and 105 pounds."

Just outside the door to the hotel room mock-up, a replica of the Governor's attractive wife Silda Wall Spitzer approaches, looking mad and holding a shoe/brick/frying pan in her hand as if she's about to whack him with it. A fictional addition to the scene, but it would certainly get people in the door of Madame Tussauds! 

According to the Washington Post, The Awakening sculpture is going to be dug up and removed from its current location at Hains Point next week. As previously mentioned in the news, it was purchased by the developer of the National Harbor project and will be moved to Prince George's County. This will leave DC with nothing but an empty, windswept field on a site just crying out for a sculptural focal point like The Awakening. I hate to imagine it in its new corporate environment, surrounded by retail chains, hotel rooms and convention-goers. 

The National Park Service should hold a competition to select a replacement for The Awakening as soon as possible. The site at the southern tip of the District needs something, a fountain, a spire, a tower, a huge flagpole. My idea for a replacement, which I first mentioned in a DCist comment thread, is a monumental sculpture, a modern-day Colossus of Rhodes on the Potomac. Here, the bearded giant portrayed in The Awakening has fully emerged from the ground, shaken the dirt off, stood upright and is extending an obscene hand gesture in the direction of National Harbor. How does that sound? 

There has been some debate over whether or not to construct new nuclear powerplants in the United States as a way to increase power production without releasing additional greenhouse gases. My first choice, along with most environmentalists, is to build more solar and wind-powered facilities, but that route may not be able to keep up with demand by itself. The main objections to nuclear power are accidents, and the creation and disposal of nuclear waste. I'm opposed to building more nuclear power plants in populated areas as well.

However, the other day, while looking at a map, I had an idea. The Feds are already committed to consolidating all nuclear waste at the Yucca Mountain storage facility in Nevada. If you recall, this was determined to be the safest location in the continental US, the most geologically stable, furthest from population centers, bodies of water, etc. The area has already been used for nuclear weapons testing years ago, and is probably already contaminated. In addition, with the nuclear waste all in one place, it would be easier to guard it from terrorists than in the current 108 locations around the country. The main problem with this plan is that the transportation of nuclear waste to the site from powerplanst around the country would be risky. There could be accidents, terrorism, and who wants trucks carrying nuclear waste driving through their towns and cities? Not me. Oh, and residents of Nevada aren't too happy about the plan, but us coastal megalopolis types can simply look the other way. He he he. If Nevada sends us power, we'll send them water!  

Why not build a series of nuclear power plants near Yucca Mountain? The area has been the whipping boy for nuclear bomb blasts for decades (900 at the Nevada Test Site), and the transportation of nuclear waste from the powerplants to the storage facility wouldn't be an issue. As the new nuclear power plants come on line, we can close down or convert others that are dangerously close to major population centers on the east coast. Eventually half the state of Nevada will give off a healthy green glow. If anything ever goes catastrophically wrong, the contaminated zone could become a Las Vegas playground, done up to resemble the Chernobyl wasteland.

The other day, a lightbulb went off and I thought of a new type of candy that could be marketed and sold to kids. It would be called Burp Candy and I was picturing spherical blobs of sugary candy containing numerous bubbles of carbon dioxide. The texture of the candy would be such that it would break into smaller chunks in the mouth, but most of the CO2 bubbles would make it to the stomach intact, and then release their belch-inducing contents. The kid could then let rip a satisfying, loud burp.

Children would be encouraged by viral marketing, YouTube videos etc, to experiment with the candies, like swallowing a whole boxful then chugging a Coke and see what happens. Or, sneak them into chemistry class and toss them in with random chemicals. Feed them to the dog! Hmm, there may be some product liability issues with my idea. I know - a tiny warning label would do the trick.

For 140 years, residents of Georgetown have been compiling a rare trove of data on their past: oil paintings, leather-bound maps, photos and files on nearly every property in the neighborhood -- all kept in the stately, two-story library on R Street NW. In just a few hours yesterday, a three-alarm fire devoured much of it. Onlookers gasped as D.C. firefighters carried out item after historical item. Most were severely damaged: a warped 1840 oil painting of a freed slave, a soot-covered copy of a D.C. atlas from a century ago, a photo left unrecognizable by flames. All afternoon flames could be seen. They ate through the precious Peabody Room, the key source for original historic materials about Georgetown. The second-floor room was named after the financier who in 1867 provided seed money for a library for Georgetown. "The second floor is gone," said branch manager Mary Hernandez.

It seems to me that as a general rule, libraries and archives do not have sprinkler systems because of the fear of leaks and water damage. However, as the head of the DCPL system, Ginnie Cooper, said in an interview today, "wet is better than ashes." Something creative needs to be done to safeguard our fragile paper cultural heritage in libraries and archives: inert-gas fire suppression systems, scanned electronic backups, acid-free paper copies kept offsite, unique items locked in fireproof/waterproof safes, whatever it takes. As usual, extra precautions will be taken after the fact, we seem to be good at closing the barn door after losing the cow these days. I hope they do something with the Washingtonia collection at the main MLK Library downtown. This is heartbreaking stuff to a librarian and history buff.

[Thank you to The Express, DC Blogs, and Wonkette for the mentions today.]