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An Open Letter to Corporate Sponsors

Dear Banks of America and Other Rich Dudes,

Please quit buying shit and putting your boring-ass name on it.


We used to have this thing in Chicago called the Sears Tower. Now when you do a Google search for those two words--and that's what they've been relegated to--the top hit is this site dedicated to some monstrosity called the Willis Tower. This self-proclaimed "global icon" is now the seventh largest building in the world and still first in the US. What you don't see on that site's welcome page is the name Sears and no indication of the nostalgia wrapped within its walls. Instead, you are welcomed with a cold reception as dry and bland as partially done white bread toast.



You see, the beloved Chicago architectural landmark formerly known as the Sears Tower was renamed in 2009 after the London-based Willis Group. Now, I wasn't privy to the meeting between the Londoners and the Sears folks, but rumor has it the meeting that resulted in this god awful name change that conjures up Different Strokes jokes, went sort of like this:

Willis Group: "Hey Sears Tower dudes, we lease part of this building now and uh, wouldn't it be cool  to like, you know, change the name to Willis Tower?"

Sears Tower dudes: "Whatevs, man. Go for it."

And boom! The deal that sparked instant backlash from native Chicagoans was closed. It was such an unpopular move, that online petitions to fight it quickly sprouted up on Facebook and other places on the interwebs.

The question that seems to be so apropos here is "what's in a name"? Sounds pretty silly that people would get their undergarments all twisted up over a simple name change, right? While I could go on about hometown pride, the warmth of nostalgia and the importance of maintaining a bit of history, I am going to be overly obvious and boldly state that the name Willis Tower just sounds dumb.

Really, it does. It's dumb. It doesn't even sound architecture-y. You'd think the Willis Group would have found better ways to drum up business than sticking their name on a local pillar of the most beautiful urban skyline in the world.

Sadly, this is not the only example of corporations buying up joints and turning them into symbolic billboards. Today, I saw the acclaimed Book of Mormon--not in the Majestic Theatre. Not even in the Shubert Theatre. No, this brilliant musical is currently on production at the Bank of America Theatre. Ooooooooh! How artsy of you, BoA! Way to prove your advocacy of all things theatrical. Can I open up my free checking during intermission?

And then there's that field where those South siders play America's past time. I'm not a Sox fan (go, Cubs, go), but I'd much rather catch a game at Comiskey Park than U. S. Cellular Field. Sounds like a dumping ground for all the AT&T towers that proved themselves useless within city limits.

Or how about all of the new tantalizing Bowl Game names that plague the end of NCAA football season? If you check out the list of college bowl games, you'll note some double whammies--games with boring corporate names played in stadiums with boring corporate names. How'd you like to be on one of the lucky teams to play in the Beef 'O' Brady's Bowl in Tropicana Field? I'd demand whiskey-glazed beef and vodka-n-Tropicana to dull the sting of that sad reality.

So, please, corporations and rich dudes, I'll repeat--please quit buying shit and putting your boring-ass name on it. Really. Do yourselves a favor, fire your current marketing guru and hire another. You can't go wrong hiring locally. At least they'd bring some historical perspective to the table, and with a little luck, some hometown pride.

Respectully submitted,
This Girl



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