Tunnel vision

By John Breneman

I almost called in sick today. My excuse? Post-traumatic
ceiling tile syndrome.

Sorry. Humor is how I cope when life gets weird and ugly,
like it did for that poor woman – Milena Del Valle, Jamaica
Plain mother of three – killed in Monday night’s tunnel
tragedy.

See, I drive to the Boston Herald each morning from New Hampshire
, where there’s no such thing as people being squashed in
tunnels by massive chunks of falling cement. Sure, we Granite
Staters relish our right to "live free or die."
Just not in $14.6 billion taxpayer-funded death traps.

And not to get all "I used to drive through that tunnel
every night" on you, but I used to drive through that
bleeping tunnel every night – back when they were shutting
down the Interstate-93 mine shaft so the late shift could
plug those leaks and squirt fresh Super Glue on the mammoth
concrete slabs hanging over our heads.

Big deal. I’ve come to understand that risky four-wheeling
has been a special part of the Massachusetts experience since
old Sam Adams got pulled over for hitting the homemade hooch
in his horse and buggy.

I try to join right in on the whole "Boston driver"
thing – the honking and cursing, the mad weaving and
artful dodging, the coming to a complete standstill in the
middle of a crowded freeway.

It’s still full speed ahead when I whiz over the Charles
and into the mouth of the Tip O’Neill tube each morning. But
I think I’ve subconsciously added a few inches to the buffer
between my front bumper and the other guy’s tailpipe.

For us nervous New Hampshire commuters, it’s good to know
Gov. Mitt Romney has got our back. Why, after interrupting
his vacation to stage that whack-a-hack press conference for
Big Dig bigwig Matt Amorello, he rushed back to his Lake Winipesaukee
command post faster than you could say "political opportunism."

In his memorable "Something happened" speech, Mitt
bravely called for the hapless Pike head’s head on a pike.
The boys in Iowa sure will be impressed by his knack for turning
tragedy into phony tough talk.

Well the probe is under way and someone will pay. Public
Enemy No. 1 is Amorello Slim. Best guess for No. 2 fall guy?

Investigators will undoubtedly be taking a hard look at Ted
Williams. It’s sort of his tunnel, right? If that bigshot
hadn’t been so busy getting swindled by his jerk son, he might
have found time to make sure that lousy thing lived up to
his good name.

Now the legendary Red Sox slugger has this hanging over his
severed, frozen, hermetically sealed head – half-baked
media reports linking him to the unconscionable death of an
innocent mom at the hands of greedy corporate highway barons,
porky bureaucrats and finger-pointing pols.

Frankly, Ted doesn’t need this baloney. Maybe the feds can
pin it on Whitey Bulger. Better yet, Billy Buckner.

Mitt won’t emerge unscathed. Count on a whole new batch of
Mitt ‘n Run jokes. Did you hear the one about the scariest
Hub highway hazard of ’em all? The constant threat of being
mowed down by a limo racing Romney to his next out-of-state
photo-op.

Anyway, some say part of the charm of Boston driving is never
knowing when the scaffolding might come crashing down or the
roof might cave in. Maybe they should post some new signs.
"Danger: Falling Three-Ton Symbols of Criminally Misspent
Public Funds."