Boston 400, the city's full-blown effort to do some long-range master planning, has just kicked off. The "400," by the way, refers to Boston's 400th birthday, which doesn't roll around until the year 2030, at which point a good portion of us will think creamed spinach is a good chew.

So what should be the master plan for Beacon Hill? What's needed is bold thinking — often in short supply — and the courage to act on those ideas. Herewith my vision:

First, flatten Beacon Hill.

It's a tough climb in the summer. In winter it becomes impossible. I know a resident who set out to work, slid all the way down Mount Vernon, and wasn't able to make it home until the middle of March.

Sure, hills have charm — unless you actually live on one. Ask the residents of the so-called "flats" of Beacon Hill. You don't see them clamoring to make their territory into a hill, do you?

Flat is great. It's easier to take care of, easier to walk on, and easier to drive along. No slipping, no sliding, and no wheezing. It's better for the elderly, the handicapped and for those with heavy packages.

Second, straighten out and widen the streets.

Beacon Hill needs real roads, not these ridiculous alleys masquerading as streets. Take Acorn Street for example. Sure, it's Boston's most photographed street. But that's because tourists from Iowa can't believe people would actually live on a street so narrow that Dom Delouise on a thin day couldn't have passed through. They can't believe Bostonians haven't figured out that macadam is a lot smoother than cobblestones.

The solution is simple. Pave it. Make it two ways, with parking on both sides. Even better, create a center turning lane. Then traffic could really move. The same with all those other cute Beacon Hill streets that twist and turn and lead to nowhere

Third, get rid of those old buildings.

The Hill's housing stock was built hundreds of years ago. The houses are old, narrow, short and most of them have staircases that are about 30 degrees off the horizontal. Let's face it: no one knew how to build a good building back then. They didn't have plastic bathtubs, wall-to-wall carpeting, or even vinyl siding.

We have all those things today. Right now, the entire Hill is littered with construction trucks because everyone is renovating buildings that simply aren't up to snuff. Stop, stop, stop. Tear them down. Rebuild. Make them wider and higher. Put in elevators. I know, I know, they're historically important. So save one, cart it off and put it in a museum.

Okay, you're probably saying by now. I'm persuaded. But it'll never happen.

You might be right. Thirty years ago Bostonians were builders; Bostonians were dreamers. They took this same dream and leveled the West End. They flattened it, widened it and built Charles River Park.

Today, we just don't seem to have the same gumption. So when you hear people complain about the Mayor having no vision, about politicians with no courage, now you know what they mean. We could have a gleaming, new Charles River Park. Instead we're left with quirky, hilly and historic Beacon Hill.

What a shame.