As news of Big Dig leaks flows, he tosses out a life vest
He ends his telephone conversations with a casual ''Don't go through the tunnel."
Christopher Tingus, 54, parades around in a giant red-orange life vest, labeled ''Big Dig Life Vest." He wears it to breakfast with his 89-year-old Aunt Pat every morning, to the gas station, to the movie theater, and even to a business meeting with investors from Hong Kong. The vest never leaves his chest -- except when he goes to bed.
''What I'm envisioning is that people will take these life vests and wear them when they're driving down the Big Dig," Tingus said. ''We want to hold public officials accountable."
And the lifelong Milton resident hopes others will follow his lead.
Tingus's Big Dig Life Vest is the product of his frustration with the roadway project.
His inspiration, he says, was one of his neighbors, who drives an extra five miles to avoid going through the tunnel. For weeks, Tingus surveyed people about their opinions on the Big Dig and listened to their venting about corrupt politicians and contractors. He said people's tirades usually ended with a joke about slurry walls and leaks.
''These are the roadways made from billions of dollars from US taxpayers," Tingus said. ''I came up with the idea of a life vest to stress to federal and state officials that they have failed to convey a sense of safety."
He called the offices of Senator Edward Kennedy, Senator John Kerry, and Governor Mitt Romney about his vest. He offered to give the first life vest to Romney in a ceremony in front of the State House.
''If the governor wants it, I'll give it to him for free," Tingus said.
Romney's representative said the governor will not be attending the ceremony.
His spokeswoman, Laura Nicoll, said, ''The people of Massachusetts are extremely innovative and ingenious. Perhaps the individual deserves to be the next recipient of the Governor's Entrepreneurial Spirit award."
The Big Dig spokeswoman declined to comment but said Tingus was allowed to use the Big Dig name.
Tingus's cellphone has been ringing incessantly with demands for interviews from radio and television stations. He says there is also talk that Jay Leno wants him on the ''Tonight Show."
While Tingus appreciates his 15 minutes, he said, ''I'm not doing this for the governor. I'm not doing this for celebrity. I'm not looking for notoriety. I'm doing this for public safety."
Gallivanting through the streets with the bright orange flotation device strapped on his shoulders, Tingus attracts a flurry of comments.
People stop, stare, smirk, and inevitably chuckle.
''So whaddaya think?" Tingus asks a crowd, with a jolly grin splashed across his face, pointing to his vest.
''If I lived in the Boston area, I would do the same thing," says Susan Cary, a visitor from Nantucket.
Pam Booden, a South Boston resident, giggles and asks, ''Where can I get one?"
As Tingus crosses a street, a woman driving by in a white Mercedes rolls down her window and hollers, ''I need a flotation device for my car!"
''Abandon ship!" yells another motorist.
Tingus is banking on people's frustration with the $14.6 billion roadway project.
''Everyone's tired of getting ripped off," Tingus mutters.
The vest is a Coast Guard-approved flotation device, weighing less than a pound and made of two foam blocks. Tingus hopes it will spawn a Big Dig fashion empire -- with a line of rubber galoshes, bright yellow rain slickers, and bright orange umbrellas.
And he insists this is not a gag.
''I wanted to convey the seriousness of the problem. We're trying to send a message. God forbid that we would have to use a life vest, I'm not suggesting that."
For $24.95, Tingus hopes to sell Big Dig Life Vests -- trademark pending -- in both adult and child sizes through a website he's yet to create, and he says he plans to operate a kiosk in Quincy Market this fall. He has ordered 20,000 vests.
Tingus said that it's not about profit but about getting people involved in the political dialogue.
''I don't really care if anyone buys these things," said Tingus.
He doesn't really need the money. He won a $1 million state lottery in February 2003. Since his lucky day, he says, he spends most of his time caring for his aging aunt, chauffeuring her around Maine, and taking her out for meatloaf in diners throughout New England. He also continues working as an international business consultant.
Tingus has launched other public safety campaigns in the past. By his count, he stood outside in the rain, snow, and cold for 1,491 hours in a one-man protest, spanning three years, to call for a reopening of a Milton fire station. Because he spent such a long time holding a 30-pound sign, he says, he developed arthritis in his right hand.
Tingus said he'll extend his Big Dig marketing campaign by bringing his life vest to the steps of the Capitol next month in Washington.
Madison Park can be reached at Mpark@globe.com.
