End of the Road
Life just won't be the same without our money-sucking tunnel project.
Dear Big Dig:
They tell me you're done. Well, except for the lawsuits, and the leaks, and the jokes, and the endless political recriminations. But that doesn't make you different from any other large Boston institution, so I suppose that, in the sense that you are now unremarkable in that regard, you really are finished. I will miss you. You served several unique functions since they turned the first spade of earth on you over a decade ago and an old editor of my casual acquaintance looked down into the rapidly expanding abyss along the waterfront and said, "You know, there are 15 Pulitzers down there somewhere." For one thing, you were a fabulous all-purpose excuse for anything else that went wrong during the day. If people were late getting back to the office, they could blame you. A flood of seawater? A four earthmover pileup in the O'Neill tunnel? A massive attack by a race of mutant vampire bats whose ancient civilization was accidentally uncovered? Anything involving you was plausible, because everyone knew that something even worse was bound to happen by the next news cycle. And let us not forget your ultimate function - as Symbol. Even more than the Governor's Council, you came to stand for everything that was wrong, wasteful, and incompetent about government work. You were a steel-and-concrete Thomas Nast cartoon - "GREED!" - with steam shovels and hard hats. Now you're finished, and $14.8 billion has gone down into the hole, never to be seen again, and you're just another legendary ongoing local fiasco. An era has passed, and we are, in so many ways, the poorer for it.
Charles P. Pierce
Cpierce@globe.com
