(For the View From Your Window contest, the results below exceed the content limit for Substack’s email service, so to ensure that you see the full results, click the headline above.)
Some highlights from this week’s write-up:
Where the inventor of the computer was born.
Where Friday the 13th is a cherished holiday.
A train wreck that smelled of chocolate.
A death cult of turkeys.
Furries!
A recent winner — the one with the famous Bernedoodle — touches on “a few matters”:
First, the VFYW book arrived, and what a lovely way to relax at the end of the day. Second, as I am enjoying the full lifecycle as a Dishhead and VFYW sleuth, I have now experienced the angst of having the correct research ready for its final form regarding the contest … and then getting too busy to finish it out. This is my fault, not yours. I will talk with my calendar keepers (me) about scheduling adequate VFYW time (also me).
Third, have you wondered why you get so many dog pictures from these parts? My wife trains puppies, and they board-in with us for a period of time. So there is an ever abundance of fluffy furry friends to photograph. For instance, have you ever in your life wondered what it would look like if a St. Bernard and a Poodle together made yet another “doodle” variant? Wonder no more:
A quick note from our super-sleuth on the UWS:
Hope you had a fabulous Thanksgiving, filled with good times with family and friends! It’s the one holiday “they” haven’t been able to commercialize (yet), and I just love it.
Big ditto. Another sleuth sends a holiday greeting and “my annual Caribbean VFYW!”
I’m feeling thankful in Noord, Aruba:
Happy Thanksgiving to you and Andrew!
Don’t forget Truman! I’ll be dog-sitting him next week, so expect some pics.
Another vacation pic from the coast comes from our super-sleuth in Sydney:
This week I’m going for the best location from which to find the window:
It’s the back of a boat in Ha Long Bay, Vietnam. Amazing place.
Big want. A couple more views come from our super-sleuth in Brookline:
Between multiple time crunches over the past few weeks and the difficulty of the Sibiu contest (I thought maybe Poland or one of the Baltic states; I never would have gotten to Romania), I broke my pretty steady submission streak. At least I added a couple of photos to the “View From My Hyatt” collection that could be suitable for non-contest purposes. The attached snaps are from the Hyatt Regency St. Louis at The Arch, and the Hyatt Regency Atlanta. (I was pleased that the St. Louis one showed a glimpse of the outfield lights at Busch Stadium.)
St. Louis and Atlanta, respectively.
Our super-sleuth in Tucson writes, “I enjoyed so many things about the Sibiu write-up, but I wanted to give particular appreciation to ‘The Good, The Bad, and Ugly’ of Romanian architecture, the biography of the Romanian rocket scientist, and the thrush-drum band.” Our super-sleuth in Augusta is catching up on the contest:
As I’m still backlogged in my sleuthing, this week’s fun fact is related to contest #485 and Epic Games, which is headquartered in Cary, NC. While that’s closer to Raleigh than Durham, the fact that Epic CEO Tim Sweeney actually owns most of North Carolina means that any part of the state probably counts. (I’m joking, but Sweeney has bought tens of thousands of acres of land for conservation.)
His company’s influence is just as expansive, due both to its widely utilized 3D game development tool, the Unreal Engine, and to the inescapable phenomenon that is its most popular game, Fortnite. Launched in 2017, Fortnite’s battle royale mode soon came to dominate the multi-player market, a dominance it sought to extend beyond conventional gameplay, with live events such as movie nights and concerts. Here’s video from the Ariana Grande “Rift Tour”:
Whether or not this makes Fortnite “more” than just a videogame became a point of contention when Epic took on Apple in court over its App Store payment policies (the trial also delved into whether or not a naked anthropomorphized banana should be considered obscene). This past May, the game introduced an AI-powered Darth Vader, whom players could talk to and then receive replies from in James Earl Jones’ cloned voice (naturally, players only used this power for good). Just last weekend, a new “Fortnite-ified” Kill Bill short written by Tarantino himself had its premiere in the game. Here’s the trailer:
We now live in a world where Peely — the aforementioned humanoid banana — has appeared in a Tarantino film. I think I need to go lie down.
On to this week’s view, here’s a followup from the sleuth who submitted the view photo — our CO/NJ super-sleuth:
As I mentioned in my original entry, we were in town for parents’ weekend at [university redacted], where my daughter attends. One of the highlights of the weekend was a guest talk by the author Michael Lewis (who has been a guest on the Dishcast twice). Mr. Lewis is a fantastic, engaging speaker, and we enjoyed his presentation immensely.
As you know, Chris, my daughter is on Substack. In a small coup, she scored an interview with Mr. Lewis. If any of the Dishheads are interested in reading the interview, which I thought was engrossing, they can do so here. The fact that he so generously gave his time to a young aspiring writer speaks volumes about his character.
In the following clip from Michael’s 2021 appearance on the pod, he talks about the profound grief of losing his daughter in car accident that year, when she was just 19:
Here’s another collegiate parent — our super-sleuth in Chicagoland:
I was on a campus tour at the University of Wisconsin-Madison with my daughter yesterday, trying to decide if this is where she would like to divert my retirement for the next few years. Just before the final presentation was supposed to start, I pulled out my phone, looked at the contest, zoomed in on the business across the street, and googled “the zen den.” Welp, that didn’t take long.
“Zen Den” makes me think of:
Back to Chicagoland’s story:
I glanced up to say something, but then I beheld an incredible view directly in front of me looking past some ornate campus buildings framing a gap through which the dome of the Wisconsin State Capitol is clearly visible. I’m about to stand up to go take a picture when the host starts the presentation. For the next 90 minutes, I politely yet agitatedly listen about how they are training the next generation of teachers and ed-policy leaders to change the state and nation and yada yada yada … as I witness this gorgeous view slowly fade to dusk and then night.
Only when the meeting ended was I able to snap a picture — which, surprisingly, turned out fairly well:
More like “very well”! I’m gonna post this eerie nighttime view as a regular VFYW in the main Dish next Friday. Back to this week’s view, here’s our previous winner in Sherman Oaks:
Last week’s VFYW was really hard; I could narrow it down to somewhere Eastern Europe, but not any closer. This week’s view gave me hope with the American flag, so at least I could narrow it down from there. There are so many places in America called the Zen Den. I also tried looking for “1885” buildings, but that was no help. (After solving the window, I checked for “1895” buildings, but that wouldn’t have helped either.)
Another prizewinner writes, “Good morning from London”:
I think this is a photo of the Phoenix Building in Petoskey, Michigan. I really enjoy this competition, but I always hope for one outside the USA. It’s more challenging, and it gives those from abroad a sporting chance!
I’m afraid I can contribute little to this one, save for the fact that Ernest Hemingway spent many summers in the Petoskey area at his family’s cottage on Walloon Lake. He used the region as inspiration for his work, including his first novel, Torrents of Spring
I am punting as to where the picture was taken from, but possibly from a window at the Roast and Toast Cafe — pictured here with a large X:
X doesn’t mark the spot this time. Here’s a sleuth who works at Colorado State University:
It’s Fort Collins, CO, USA. Ask me how I know!
No funny stories, though. Fort Collins is a nice town, but it needs more bookstores and thrift stores to be a quality college town.
Another sleuth guesses “Portland, Oregon, USA,” and another goes with “Great Barrington, MA, USA,” and other picks “Flagstaff, AZ.” From our super-sleuth in Yakima:
Pretty easy one this week. I tried hard to come up with an abbreviation ending in “k” that would explain the period on Dusty’s right, but couldn’t come up with anything better than “Phoenix Bank” or “Phoenix Block.” Neither one actually helped find the view, but it confirmed the location once I found it.
Another sleuth writes:
This one was easier than most, since I managed to find it using Google Maps in under an hour. Being that I live in Mesa, AZ, just east of Phoenix, the “Phoenix” on the building caught my eye. Alas, the window’s location, it turns out, is nowhere near where I live.
From a previous winner:
This view seemed to have a couple red herrings: the building with “Phoenix” written on it, and the sign that looked similar to the Arizona flag on the outside of the window through which the photographer is looking. But the architecture did not look like Arizona to me.
It took me a little while to determine what business on the far side of the street is named. The Len Den? The Lin Din? Finally, I figured it out.
So did the super-sleuth in Vancouver, WA — after this awkward start:
At first I thought the sign across the street said “Love Den,” which sent me on a goose chase to some adult entertainment stores. Turns out it was something different.
Quite! From our super-sleuth in Berkeley:
And so it goes: one week we get a nearly impossible view, and the next one is so easy you could trip over it. The sign across the street was blurred, but not enough. How the hell many places are there called The Zen Den! (There’s at least one Bay Area police department that has an officer decompression room they call the zen den.) A Google search for the phrase “the zen den” offers up a list of a zillion independent yoga and pilates studios spread out all over the English speaking world …
Picking it up from there is our super-sleuth in Albany:
Although there are many, many, many yoga studios and school “calming rooms” named The Zen Den, I was the unexpected beneficiary of having the correct location served up to me in the first Google result, likely by virtue of living a mere 103 miles away. Some of the other “Zen Den” locations served up to me: Herkimer NY, Tully NY, Ocean Township NJ, Manchester CT, Margate NJ, PS #16 Jersey City NJ, Scandia MN, Shingle Springs CA, Jackson TN, Kellogg Community College in Battle Creek MI, and Stoughton MA.
Here’s the super-sleuth on Park Avenue:
I found it hard to place this photo — what looks like a nice main street in a small town that could be in the NE, Midwest, or some of the mountain states. I ended up looking a lot of Zen Dens across the US before I found the combination of a Zen Den and a Lotus Salon in the same town!
Chini shows it:
Back to the “Phoenix” mystery, here’s our super-sleuth in Rome:
From the family team known as the Chapel Hill Lees:
Fascinating process of discovery for us this week. The beagle was a covering a clue, and my first guess was “Phoenix Bank.” Phoenix Bank was originally founded in 1857 as Old Phoenix Bank in Medina, Ohio. (It burned down but was rebuilt in 1870.) Looking at the buildings in historic Medina, I was encouraged that I was close to the window solution.
But after several minutes of perusing, I concluded that the window isn’t in Medina. Here’s what Phoenix Bank there looked like — clearly not the one in the VFYW:
About this time, oldest daughter Hannah tells us that “Phoenix Bank” is not the clue; it’s “Phoenix Block.” As it happens, several towns have Phoenix Block buildings: Deadwood, SD, Mishawaka, IN, and Anoka, MN, to name a few.
It’s indeed “Phoenix Block.” Our super-sleuth in Hinckley has a dramatic story of a prank gone wrong:
Phoenix Block building? Well, this one’s just TOO easy: it has to be the Old Phoenix Bank building on the south side of bucolic public square in the city of my birth: Medina, Ohio. Right?
Uh ... no. It’s a different Phoenix Block, located in (town pre-redacted) — but certainly of similar vintage. Here’s a photo of the Medina Phoenix Block building, now housing a Huntington Bank:
Here’s a tale that must be told. In my little town of Hinckley, Ohio, there was also an Old Phoenix Bank that shared a building with my town’s post office. Half century ago, two brothers thought it would be a “fun prank” to hand the teller a note saying the bank would be bombed if they didn’t leave a bag of cash in the town park a block away the next night. (I was a bit younger than those brothers, but they were all of 13 and 15 years of age.)
Still thinking it just a prank, the boys still decided to show up in the park and there was the bag of cash, right on a picnic table. Since the bank was in a federal building, this was now a matter for the FBI: there were snipers and spotters atop the nearby elementary school, watching and waiting. The feds were most likely expecting adults driving a car rather than teens on bicycles, so they completely missed their get-away into the adjacent woods. They got away scot-free.
UNTIL. One of them decided to take some of the stolen loot to a candy store and was soon busted. The brothers served no time, but they were under close supervision for a long, long time.
From a sleuth in Canada:
Among all the Phoenix Blocks, one was built here in Toronto in 1872. However, it ceased to exist as a result of the Great Toronto Fire of 1904:
No rising from the ashes there. Another sleuth:
Today I had free time and went down the rabbit hole. Definitely looks like a small town in the Northeast, especially WNY or PA. Across the street it looks like “Phoenix Brick” or “Phoenix Block.” That got me to the Phoenix building in Pittsford, NY — my hometown — but it’s not a match. Then I was pretty sure I could make out “Zen Den,” which took me to Auburn, NY — hometown of my daughter’s boyfriend and unofficial fiancée. Again, not a match. But after a long search, I stumbled upon it!
So did our super-sleuth in Tewksbury:
I first assumed this was the window of a coffee shop, with a sandwich board reading “In Coffee We Trust.” But I’ll concede that “In Crust We Trust” works so much better.
What kind of crust? The super-sleuth in Riverwoods knows:
It’s the first pizzeria I’ve encountered that contains the contest window. It’s fun when a photo submitter decides to be contrarian and stray off the hotel path!
Before we discover the name of the pizzeria, San Mateo reimagines Phoenix Block:
Given the blocky brick construction of the Phoenix Block building at the center of this week’s VFYW, the LEGO treatment I gave to the contest #485’s Reimagined (Durham, NC) would have been appropriate. But that would have been too soon for another LEGO.
Coincidentally, last week I was in New York for a meeting, only a 200-mile drive from this week’s VFYW. While I was in meetings, my wife visited the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) and saw Vincent van Gogh’s transcendental “The Starry Night” (1889), which is in the permanent collection and currently on view.
This painting and [town redacted] don’t really seem connected at first — one is a small college town; the other is a famous painting in a big museum. But there’s a way they line up. In “The Starry Night,” we see a small, quiet village under a huge, dramatic sky. The town looks calm, but the sky feels intense and emotional. [Town redacted] is also a small, calm-looking place: a few streets, brick buildings, church steeples, the village green. But standing on a hill at night and looking down, the town feels tiny under a big, dark sky filled with stars.
So this week’s Reimagined will focus on the Phoenix Block building as inspired by “The Starry Night”:
Back to the window hunt, our super-sleuth in West Orange names the right state:
Well, I thought we had finally found a view that I could drive to and validate with my own eyes. There was a chance for this to happen once before, with contest #337 (Parsippany) … but I couldn’t solve it in time :( Looking at these little storefronts and small town architecture, I thought I had another chance. Surely we were back in suburban New Jersey. Maybe somewhere in Morris County?
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