Taking shots in Revere

As for the people lining up for Ted Kennedy’s seat, they could put an insomniac to sleep in five minutes.

If you want colorful politics, you’ve got to head over the Tobin Bridge or through the Ted Williams Tunnel to the North Shore, to Revere, where politics isn’t just a contact sport, it’s a blood sport.

When last we checked in with the duly elected representatives of Revere, they were debating the merits of putting up metal detectors at T stations to keep ruffians from Boston out of their serene seaside community. This was right around the same time that a Revere city councilor and the head of the Department of Public Works had a fistfight. At a wake.

The latest contretemps involves Ward 4 City Councilor George Rotondo. For his day job, Rotondo works as a registered nurse at Brigham and Women’s. He is ambitious and he clearly has a sense of humor, because he’s running for reelection, this time as an at-large councilor.

Now, like many cities of similar demographics, Revere has had its share of sticky-fingered pols. Over the years, more than a few have seen the inside of a grand jury room, not to mention a cell.

And then we have George Rotondo’s grievous offense: volunteering to give flu shots at a local clinic.

Some of Rotondo’s rivals complained that he got an unfair political advantage in administering the shots. Rotondo’s rivals imagined him standing there, holding a dripping syringe, telling the would-be inoculated that the only thing that stood between them and a slow, painful death was them giving him a bullet tomorrow on Election Day.

“It’s ridiculous,’’ Rotondo was saying. “I’m a nurse. I volunteered to do it because I’m trained to do it and this is my community.’’

Rotondo said he had volunteered to give shots at an elderly housing complex earlier this year, and went out of his way to conceal his public position.

“I wasn’t looking for votes. I didn’t tell anybody who I was. I even put my medical ID in my pocket so people wouldn’t see my name tag. There were some people getting shots who only spoke Italian or Spanish, and I speak those languages so I did some translating, so there would be informed consent. But this idea that I was using it for political gain is nonsense.’’

Yeah, but this is Revere, pal. Nonsense is just another word for campaigning. When people found out that Rotondo volunteered again, this time for a clinic at St. Anthony’s Church, the dimes started dropping and the Revere Health Department suggested Rotondo stay away.

Rotondo said he was told that three city councilors had complained. He declined to name them. But, hey, this is Revere, so it didn’t take long to come up with some names - and some denials.

“I didn’t complain,’’ Councilor Anthony Zambuto said.

“Wasn’t me,’’ Councilor George Colella said.

“Not me,’’ Councilor John Correggio said.

Correggio, one of the combatants at the wake fight, said he didn’t have a problem with Rotondo administering flu shots. While insisting they didn’t drop a dime, Zambuto and Colella said they believed Rotondo would get an unfair advantage by administering flu shots, especially to the elderly.

Rotondo has lived in Revere for 13 years but his foes dismiss him as a blow-in. And it is true that, by Revere standards, he is positively a foreigner because he grew up in that distant, far-off place called Everett.

Zambuto says Rotondo is a bomb tosser. “He looks for headlines,’’ Zambuto said. “He probably called you.’’

For the record, he didn’t. Politicians in Revere do a pretty good job calling attention to themselves.

Tomorrow can’t come fast enough. George Rotondo’s wife went out to her car recently and found that someone had thoughtfully left a dead bird on the windshield. And it wasn’t a turkey.

Kevin Cullen is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at cullen@globe.com