These owl ads are popping up all over Columbus. They’re on the sides of buildings, on the signs at the bikes to go stations, and on just about every other ad location you can think of.
I like the stern, alert owl picture, but there’s one big problem from my standpoint — the ad doesn’t say the name of the “university” that is being advertised. It’s pretty obvious that the whole point of the ad campaign is to pique your curiosity and get you to do a search for WGU, so you can find out what it is. Those campaigns are consciously designed to manipulate ordinary people — and I hate that.
So I hereby declare that I’m not going to be manipulated. I guess I’ll just have to go through life without learning what WGU is. Let the owl stare all he wants — I’m not biting.
An apartment search service called “Rent Hop” has declared Chicago the “Rat Capital” of the United States. Rent Hop did a study of rat complaints and concluded that Chicago received far more rat complaints than other American cities — 50,963 in 2017 alone. That’s a 55 percent increase since 2014, and factors out to 1,876 complaints per 100,000 people. Even worse, the neighborhoods with the most rat complaints also tend to be the neighborhoods with the most uncollected dog droppings.
That’s really a lot of rat complaints, when you think about it. If you’re a renter in Chicago — particularly in some neighborhoods — you’re pretty likely to have a rat encounter.
The Windy City blew New York City out of the water in the Rat Capital race; the Big Apple logged only 19,152 rat complaints last year, which put it well down on the list on a per capita basis. Second place on the per capita list went to Washington, D.C. That should come as no surprise, although it’s not clear whether the D.C. count was limited to only four-legged rats, or also included the two-legged variety.
Fortunately, Columbus didn’t make the Rat Capital list.
Cities used to declare themselves “capitals” as a mark of civic pride. When I was a kid, Uhrichsville, Ohio — where the Webner part of the family hails from — had a sign boasting that it was the “Clay Capital” of the United States. (I’m not sure any other municipalities were vying for that distinction.) Akron was the Rubber Capital in those days, and even now on the highways you’ll see corny signs saying that one town or another is the Friendly Folks Capital or the Smile Capital or the Lobster Capital.
I doubt that Chicago is going to put up a sign about the Rat Capital designation.