OK, so it's just a dream brought on by digestive juices while munching lunch on the immaculate courthouse lawn.

There is a calmness, on a humid summer day, that lingers over the tidy green space occupied by the Common Pleas Courthouse on the hill overlooking downtown Cape Girardeau.

Occasionally, I eat my lunch while sitting on one of the benches on the river side of the courthouse. From that vantage point, you can see the river and what appears to be a toy version of downtown.

Yesterday I noticed that the grounds, which I believe are maintained by prisoners from the county jail, are immaculate. The lawn, the trees and the flowers were better tended than the poshest golf course I've ever seen.

As a matter of fact, while my lunch digested I laid out a par-three course. I'm pretty sure it could be done without cutting down a single tree.

Up in St. Louis, another town on the Mississippi River, there is a lot of hand-wringing going on right now about how to save the city, how to restore its commerce and industry, how to make it an appealing place to live and work, since most of its former residents now live "out in the county."

Among the ideas that have been bandied about is allowing street performers in downtown St. Louis. You know: jugglers and mimes and musicians.

I'll be real honest with you. I think it's going to take a lot more than some fellow in whiteface doing cartwheels on the sidewalks while tooting a saxophone to save St. Louis. But that's just my opinion.

Which is why my idea for a golf course at the old courthouse is so important.

Frankly, Cape Girardeau's downtown is perking along pretty well. Sure, it has had to adjust to the relocation of most retail enterprises to the area along I-55 that I affectionately refer to as Druryville.

The businesses that have chosen to stay put or move into downtown have done a pretty fair job of keeping the old buildings tidy and appealing to shoppers and diners. Just look at all the traffic that jams Broadway and Independence and William right before lunch -- headed east -- and right after lunch -- headed west. That says something for downtown right there.

But if we had a golf course overlooking the river and downtown, just imagine what a draw it would be. Maybe fewer downtown folks would leave the area at lunchtime every day if they could get in a quick round of easy golf.

Why do most of the lunchtime diners who eat downtown travel from the bustling environs of the West Side? And why do so many downtowners go west for a bite of lunch? Chalk it up that Cape Girardeau mindset that says you haven't properly tended to your stomach unless you drive somewhere first.

Personally, I think we could cut the city budget for streets in half if everyone would just walk to lunch. But I'm a realist. I know you can't undo people's habits where their appetites are concerned.

Right after I finished laying out the Riverview Golf Club (if you call it a club, it has more marketing appeal), I spent the rest of my lunchtime watching downtown. Looking down on the rooftops from the courthouse steps reminds me of the towns my friends and I used to build in someone's back yard so we could drive our toy trucks and cars through them. Even at that age, I suppose, we were rehearsing for lunchtime in Cape Girardeau.

It occurred to me that if those downtown buildings really were toys, we could move them around to give everyone a river view. Or we could try out the recent Speak Out caller's suggestion for a retractable floodwall.

Of course, if it were my toy town, I'd just add another 20 feet of dirt to the sand bar that downtown sits on. Then it would be well above the river's flood stage.

I'd get some of the dirt by digging a small lake on the courthouse lawn, probably near the fountain on the Lorimier Street side.

Every good golf course needs at least one hole across water, right?

While some of you may be glad I don't eat lunch on the courthouse lawn very often -- otherwise you would have to read more harebrained schemes like this one -- you have to admit it's fun to dream once in awhile.

~R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.