There is a common species in Central Europe that mayors particularly fear. Often representatives of this species are very sensitive to noise and need a lot of sleep. They stubbornly defend their territory, usually with great indignation, sometimes also aggressively against alleged intruders. The scientific name of the genus, which often occurs in groups, is not known. The common specimen of this species could perhaps be called a vicinus vulgaris describe. And yes: of course he has enemies. The common residents believe at least themselves. These include children, crows, building projects and especially young people.
And because the Vicinus vulgaris naturally regards itself as a species to be protected and therefore expects its mayor to ward off all its disturbing enemies and drive them out of its habitat, strange ideas sometimes arise. In Wales, for example, a device was developed to use sound to make it unbearable for young people to stay in certain places. With “The Mosquito” a signal is generated in the ultrasound range that presumably only young people can hear. Because hearing deteriorates with age, people over the age of 25 should not hear the annoying noise. And in Hamburg they once tried to drive junkies out of subway stations with classical music, because they supposedly can’t stand Vivaldi, Mozart and Bach. Fortunately, there is still no budget point for this kind of sound in municipalities in the district. But there are other dubious ideas and grotesque changes in the design of the site.
If a community wants to drive crows out of a residential area, it often has their nests removed from the trees and branches cut to make the birds there as uncomfortable as possible. This is roughly how Neubiberg thought when they came up with a strategy to scare young people away from the lake at Grünanger. Simply unscrew the benches on which the young people meet to celebrate and you are rid of them. In the meantime, however, the community has moved away from this plan. After all, such a lake without benches is somehow stupid even for the Vicinus vulgaris. And the tactic with the nests never really worked.
In Unterhaching, on the other hand, they are sticking to the structural changes to the territory of the noise-sensitive residents in order to make it uncomfortable for young people there. They had chosen a four-meter-high mound of earth as their realm on the stump meadow, which was created by the road construction, and actually spread blankets up there. In the pandemic, outdoor meetings are in and of themselves the best idea. But the residents didn’t find it, at least not in front of their garden gate. And so the community went and shaped the previously rather flat hill into a true alpine peak, on the summit of which there is a maximum of one mouse. Or a crow?