SwanShadow Thinks Out Loud

Welcome back, my friends, to the tradition that never ends. Okay, truth to tell, it will inevitably end eventually, because I will inevitably end eventually. But fortunately for all of us, that end does not appear imminent. Then again, this is Las Vegas, where anything can happen and often does.

I decided to label this 22nd iteration of this annual post “Reverse SwanShadow Edition” because when I typed the number 22, it looked remarkably like a mirror image of my familiar cygnus-and-umbra logo. If you play Texas Hold ’em, you might refer to a pair of pocket deuces as “ducks,” which I suppose is close enough. (I have it on good authority that bingo aficionados use the same terminology in reference to the call number I-22.)

Knowing my inherent inability to concentrate on anything for very long, I consider it a monumental achievement that I’ve managed to be regular in this particular habit for 22 years. But the fact is, I am deeply grateful for the life I’ve been blessed to live to this point, and for all of the people, places, and things that continue to make it pleasant and endlessly interesting. This annual exercise, as focused on ephemera as it appears to be, remains my personal love letter to everyone and everything I appreciate. It’s a peculiar way of expressing thanks. But it’s my way.

If you’re new to this experience, the following is an alphabetical list — one item for each letter of said alphabet — of items human, non-human, and inhuman (um…?) for which I am thankful this Thanksgiving, as though that weren’t redundant. As random as the collection appears, it represents in synecdoche (Google it) the sum total of everything that is. At least, everything that doesn’t stand on its own, unlike The Daughter and The Son-In-Law and The Little Dudes and The Sunflower and The Nest and Wanda the Scarlet Witch and all else that is truly special and good.

So, on this Thanksgiving Day 2025 (where does the time go?), your Uncle Swan gives thanks for:

A’ja Wilson, star of my beloved Las Vegas Aces: the four-time M’VP, the three-time D’POY, the two-time FM’VP, and quite possibly the G’OAT. I could not imagine a more appropriate place to begin this Number 22 list than with Number 22 her own self. I’ve been privileged to see many legendary athletes — from Steph Curry to Barry Bonds, from Joe Montana to Jerry Rice, from Willie McCovey to Steve Young to Klay Thompson — play in person for my favorite sports teams over the course of my fandom. I’m not sure that I will ever have seen, by the hopefully long-distant end of her still-escalating career, a more singular team-sport athlete on my home team than A’ja Wilson.

Bettie Page, who just might have been the GOAT of iconic image makers. She may not have garnered the undying adoration accorded Marilyn Monroe — whose appeal I’ve never entirely understood, to be frank (sorry, Frank) — but no one ever gave better face than the Queen of the Pinups.

Cornbread dressing, a seemingly simple side dish that it has taken me decades to perfect. Much scouring of cookbooks and Internet recipe sites, in addition to endless trial and error, has brought me to the point where I can almost say that my cornbread dressing (don’t call it stuffing unless you’re cramming it into an animal carcass) is the equal of the dish that annually graced my mother’s Thanksgiving table. Almost.

Dustbuster, the portable handheld vacuum that I don’t know how I ever survived without until I purchased one this year. Well played, Messrs. Black and Decker.

Eighteen B. (Actually, it’s more commonly written 18b, but we make allowances.) The Las Vegas Arts District is an 18-block (18b… get it? someone was clever) expanse just south of downtown proper where all manner of funky galleries, museums, murals, eateries, breweries, and other locations of interest collide. People who think that Vegas has no culture or soul have never been to this part of the city.

Freakin’ Reviews, the YouTube channel hosted by my fellow Las Vegas Valley denizen James White. Originally, James focused on video reviews of “as seen on TV” products. Now that that category of merchandise has been more or less subsumed into Amazon, Temu, and other online retailers, James showcases, for better or worse (often worse), whatever unusual gadget or household item strikes his fancy. James recently added a second channel, entitled Freakin’ 2, where he samples weird foods and beverages so I don’t have to.

Ground News, a Canadian-based news aggregator with a intriguing purpose: helping its readers navigate the sociopolitical “blind spots” both of news outlets, and of the readers themselves. Ground News serves up news articles from a wide array of sources, noting the particular bias of the source so that the reader knows where that source is “coming from,” so to speak. It also highlights news items that sources on either end of the political spectrum are under-reporting. In an environment where it can be difficult to know which media to trust — or whether you simply trust those who happen to agree with you, regardless of their factual accuracy — Ground News is a tool worth checking out. (This is not a sponsored post.)

Henderson and North Las Vegas, Sin City’s twin siblings here in the Valley. Most visitors tend to view the entirety of southern Nevada as “Las Vegas,” but quite a bit of it isn’t (including the Las Vegas Strip, which lies entirely outside the city limits). In fact, two other sizable incorporated cities lie cheek-by-jowl alongside us: Henderson (Nevada’s second-largest city; yes, bigger than Reno) to the southeast, and North Las Vegas (the fourth-largest) to the north and northwest. Both cities have reputations — Henderson as a boring backwater; NLV as sketchy and crime-ridden — that aren’t entirely deserved, and both actually have much to offer their communities. And yes, residents of both get a little annoyed at being lumped in as merely “outer Vegas.”

Isis, the Egyptian-themed superheroine of long-ago Saturday mornings. In civilian life, she was mild-mannered high school science teacher Andrea Thomas (played with understated cool by Joanna Cameron, who passed away in 2021). But when she donned her mystic amulet and uttered the phrase, “O mighty Isis!”, Andrea was transformed (okay, she just changed clothes, really) into a modern-day interpretation of the ancient goddess. Isis could (as noted in The Secrets of Isis‘s opening narration) “soar as the falcon soars, run with the speed of gazelles, and command the elements of sky and earth” — at least, as much of any of those things as a children’s TV budget and 1970s technology would allow. She could even deliver a thoughtful moral message at the end of each episode.

Juneteenth, the national holiday that celebrates the day when enforcement of the Emancipation Proclamation began in Texas in 1865 (two years after the document was signed; no Internet in those days, so news traveled slowly) and slavery formally (if not culturally) ended in the United States. It’s also my half-birthday, which I’d like to imagine is worth celebrating on at least a minute scale.

Kosher salt, the one ingredient I can’t imagine my kitchen without. Did you know that it’s called “kosher” salt not because it meets kosher dietary standards, but because it was the salt used in kashering, a process of dry-brining meats? My preferred brand is Diamond Crystal, even though they confounded me recently when they redesigned the traditional box.

Leona Lewis, whose “Bleeding Love” is one of my all-time favorite pop tunes. Leona is playing her first-ever Las Vegas residency during this holiday season, and I can hardly wait to see her perform live next month. Leona’s included in my list of 31 “magical voices,” spotlighting the female singers whose pipes I adore.

Myron’s. Speaking of magical voices, Myron’s at the Smith Center is one of my favorite places in Las Vegas to hear them. This year, I saw Sam Harris there — his first tour in several years — and the New York Voices, who are currently winding down their nearly 40-year performing career. Myron’s cabaret-style venue makes a fine, intimate space in which to enjoy talented musical artists and their craft.

I’ve only just begun working on my NOKbox, an organizing tool designed to assist one’s next of kin (“NOK”) in event of one’s disability or demise. (That’s a polite way of saying, “It’s for when you croak.”) The NOKbox helps you put together all of the information and documentation that your loved ones will need in order to resolve your estate. With luck and a fair wind, my sunset is hopefully yet a long distance away. But it’s comforting to have a handy tool that will make things somewhat easier for The Daughter when the inevitable arrives. (Boy howdy, there’s a boatload of stuff to pull together, though. I’d better step it up.)

The Osmo Pocket 3 is one of the handiest devices ever made for recording video on the go. It’s a small handheld camera (it also mounts to a stand or tripod) with a built-in gimbal, plus numerous other features that lend themselves to quick and relatively easy shooting. I’m still figuring out how best to put it to work on the creative ideas that percolate in my brain, but I’m confident that the device will be up to the task even if the operator is not.

The Plaza Hotel and Casino is one of the downtown hotspots that I can see from my front window. What I love most about the Plaza is not the hotel-casino itself, but rather the free fireworks displays they host on major holidays (including Formula 1 weekend, which I suppose is now a public holiday here in Vegas), as well as every Friday night during the summer season. It’s like having a front-row seat to the Fourth of July every weekend from Memorial Day onward, as well as on the actual Fourth of July.

Quail eggs are delicious. I feel a little bit sorry for the quail. But only a little bit.

Rush, one of my favorite rock bands of all time, are reuniting next year for their first tour since legendary drummer Neil Peart passed in 2020. I know that some fans are up in arms at the audacity of Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson carrying on without The Professor, who in addition to his nonpareil percussion skills also wrote the band’s lyrics. But I for one am thrilled to have another opportunity to see Geddy and Alex perform live — I never got to experience Rush in concert while Neil was still with us — as well as thrilled for them to enjoy playing their music together again. I’m excited too to see how Anika Nilles, a phenomenal talent whom I’ve followed for years on YouTube, fits in behind the drum kit. And yes, I already have my ticket for one of the gigs in LA.

South Point is the place I point to (pun intended) when people tell me that “Vegas is dead,” because this locals-friendly joint is always packed. One of the few hotel-casinos left in the market that’s still privately owned by a single individual (longtime industry executive Michael Gaughan), South Point makes it work with customer-focused service, an array of reasonably priced dining options (including the best value buffet remaining in Vegas), and entertainment options that appeal to their target demographic. South Point also hosts numerous events including bowling tournaments (their bowling center is massive) and rodeo competitions (they have an arena specially built for horse-related activities). I tend to avoid the place when the cowboys are in town, but you do you.

Calling a business Terrible’s seems like a poor marketing strategy, but that is in fact the name of the outfit that holds the franchise on Chevron gas stations in these parts. Apparently, the company’s founder, nicknamed “the P.T. Barnum of gasoline” for his outrageous promotional schemes, decided to lean into the fact that his competitors found his business approach “terrible,” and ran with it. For the record, the gasoline does not seem terrible.

“Unchained” is one of my favorite Van Halen tracks. Go listen. That’s all I need to say.

Vitamix held a 40%-off sale on Amazon earlier this year, so I finally broke down and purchased one of their world-class but usually insanely expensive blending machines. And I love it. It’s added smoothies to my daily routine, so I can truthfully say that I’m doing something health-forward. (You can’t taste the spinach. You really can’t.) I also enjoy making the occasional soup in it. Who knew that you could make hot soup from cold ingredients in a blender? The wonders of modern technology.

Winnie and Ethel’s has fast become one of my favorite local dining spots. (And by “local,” I mean “five minutes from my house.”) Originally just a breakfast/brunch option — their malted pancakes are incredible, and don’t sleep on the grits, either — they now open a few evenings each week for equally excellent dinner. It’s the kind of place where the staff greets you like an old friend when you walk in the door, and serves you coffee in a mug from the most random collection of drinkware ever assembled outside of a Goodwill store. Get off the Strip and go there for a meal. You will not regret it.

Xanadu was: (1) the summer palace of Kublai Khan; (2) a classic poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge; (3) the title character’s mansion in the film Citizen Kane, based on the real-life Hearst Castle; (4) a dreadful slice of cinematic cheese served up in 1980 by director Robert Greenwald, and starring Olivia Newton-John; and (5) the title song from said film, which will now be stuck in your head for the rest of your Thanksgiving Day. You’re welcome.

Yermo, the weird little California desert town on Interstate 15 just a few miles east of Barstow that every SoCal traveler passes through on the drive to Las Vegas. Yermo is noteworthy for such touristy stops as Eddie World, allegedly California’s largest gas station (you’ll recognize it by the ginormous milkshake out front); the Liberty Sculpture Park, an assortment of found-materials artworks visible from the freeway; Peggy Sue’s ’50s Diner, what a Denny’s might be like if American Graffiti vomited inside it; and the Marine Corps Logistics Base, a massive storage facility for earth-tone military vehicles. The fast-food chain Del Taco also originated in Yermo, although there isn’t a Del Taco there now. Or much of anything else, except as noted above.

Zucchini, because your neighbor planted some and now has a ton to give away, including to you. There’s always zucchini bread.

As is ever the case, I am grateful for you, friend reader. If you’ve continued to drop in here every November for this feast of word salad, you have earned my respect, admiration, and even love. I hope that you and those you cherish will enjoy a wonderful and thoughtful Thanksgiving, and that all of us will still be around to celebrate another at this time next year.