Ode to Pocatello Creek

It took me a while to think of a name for my blog. At first, I selected "Deep Thoughts...by Andrew Dixon." But I thought that was way too original. Then, I thought of something in spanish, but that was too much of a hassle. Then, after a quick text to my trusty nephew, Stephen Mark Dixon (hereinafter "Skid Marks"), I decided on a name that we had previously discussed for a blog: Pocatello Creek. Originally, we thought about having a blog about Pocatello, where we could make fun of all things Idaho. But on second thought, I figured I could put the name to good use.

You see, Skid Marks was raised (partially, but formatively) in Pocatello, Idaho. For those of you who are not familiar with Idaho, one word adequately describes Pocatello and this word is actually quite common for those of us who have occasion to describe the city. The word is "armpit." NOTE: If any family members are reading this who are present or past residences of Pocatello, I apologize if my honesty is offensive. In any event, Skid Marks lived in Idaho and I had the privilege of visiting him during both summer and winter vacations.

During the summer, Skid Marks and I would play all day. We were usually up by the crack of dawn and usually did not go to sleep until late at night. In between, we jumped on the trampoline; played "toy ball" (a version of baseball played with a plastic bad and those plastic linking toys for babies--apparently we were too poor for a wiffle ball); caught night crawlers by mixing an oxygen eliminator with a garbage can full of water and dumping it on the grass, only to have the nightcrawlers surface for air; begged our parents to take us fishing; rode bikes; looked for rocks; visited Skid Marks' dad's boss's dental office at the Pine Ridge Mall, which was awesome because it had TVs on the roof for the poor kids getting their teeth pulled; visiting Grandma's house over on Nixon road and feeding the sheep in the neighbor's yard with apples from Grandma's orchard; etc.

Occasionaly, however, Skid Marks and I would venture over to Skid Marks' elementary school, aka Edahow Elementary. (By the way, Edahow is how they spell Idaho in Armpit, er, Pocatello). Behind Edahow Elementary flowed (and I say flowed for a reason--I don't believe it flows anymore) Pocatello Creek. This was a kids' dream! Skid Marks and I had about 5 different forts along the banks of Pocatello Creek. We probably were not supposed to be over there, but it was a blast. We played for hours.

A few months ago I looked up our old haunt on Google Earth. It was gone. It is now a housing development. Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you got 'till it's gone? They pave paradise, put up a parking lot. Mmmmmmmmmmmm bop bop bop.

Sorry.

But seriously, it was sad to see our old stomping grounds transformed into a mini-city. That was sacred ground to us. Still is.

So that is the story behind the story. So the next time you head north on I-15, past Devil Creek Reservoir, past Marsh Valley High School, past McAmmon and the Lava turn off, past Inkom Stinkom, past the Minidome Overlook, and come to the second Pocatello Exit (Pocatello Creek Road), please hold your hand over your heart in memory of Pocatello Creek.

More posts to come.... Maybe.