OK, That Was Fun, But....

Blogging is fun. But I don't have time for it. Thanks for the comments and the participation, but this blog is done!

Christmas Music

Those of you who knew me growing up know that I was raised in a musical home. 5 a.m. piano practice was not uncommon (not because I chose to, but because if I did not, my mother would have killed me). Everything we did revolved around music this or music that. I was privileged to learn music early in my life and as the years went on, learned the play the trumpet, tuba, and piano, and the occasional drum in the jazz band. Too bad I never had any real talent (see, e.g., Heidi's previous post a few months ago when I busted out the old trumpet and played the Olympic Theme from scratch), because I think I really would have liked to be a professional musician. Not necessarily a rock star, but some sort of musician. I think my dream would to be a jazz saxophonist. I need to learn the sax. Maybe a new year's resolution. Not that being a rock star is bad, though. Two nights ago, I was rockin' it out to "Livin on a Prayer" on the Rock Bank demo set up at Best Buy. It was AWESOME.

In any event, I love Christmas music. Some of my friends think I'm nuts. They are right, but that is beside the point.

For those of you who may need some direction in your Christmas music selections, I have listed for you here my top 3 Christmas albums of all time. Most of the reason I love the following is due to the music that was played in my home as a kid, and which now brings reminiscent memories of the good old days. Enjoy.

Introductory comment: I know some of the comments I'll get on this particular selection will be flippant. Just remember, fools mock, but they shall mourn....

1. Carpenters Christmas Portrait

A classic in the Dixon family. Occasionally, I break it out in July. If you do not have a copy, you should get one.

2. Merry Mancini Christmas

A lesser-known Christmas album, but listen to it once and you will love it. Peaceful. From a day when life wasn't as hectic.

3. Vince Gill--Let There Be Peace On Earth

Vince Gill's operatic tenor voice is piercing. Most of the songs are traditional, but his tribute to his brother who had passed away, It Won't Be The Same This Year, will touch you.

I'm sure you all have your favorites. If you haven't tried these, give them a whirl.

What's in a Name?

Why is it that when you come up with a really cool name for a blog, say, for example, "Pocatello Creek," you immediately realize a better and more fitting name for that blog, say, for example, "Washington Ditch." Those of you who know me (and where I grew up) know that I likely have far more memories of playing in the Washington Ditch than I do in Pocatello Creek.

Washington Ditch flowed relatively closely behind the house in which I was raised. Washington Ditch was the man-made ditch through which Las Vegas Creek flowed. Las Vegas Creek emanated from the Las Vegas Springs, where now sits the Las Vegas Springs Preserve, and was the lifeblood of this forsaken desert when the Marmuns first arrived to convert the native Paiutes. I believe Helen J. Stewart had her ranch on the banks of the creek. For more fascinating information on this subject, please click here: http://www.parks.nv.gov/olvmf.htm. In any event, the Washington Ditch generally flowed year round on Washington Boulevard from Bruce Street on the West to Lamb on the East. (Yes, I grew up in what is now the hood, thank you very much.).

In any event, Washington Ditch was an open ditch of, well, filth. But when I was a kid, it was a haven of tadpoles and mud. I used to sneak over to the ditch and wonder if there were fish in there. There weren't, of course, except for the occasional guppie that was washed down after a major flood. I caught those and brought them home. They lived usually for a few hours, after which I would bury them under one of my dad's fruit trees for "fertilizer."

If you drive down Washington going east from Las Vegas Boulevard to Lamb, you will not see Washington Ditch. Sometime in the early 90s, the City saw fit to cover it up. It now flows underground, under Washington Boulevard. See, they paved paradise again.

If any of you know of Washington Ditch or have a crazy Washington Ditch story, please share in the comments. If any of you have old pictures of the Washington Ditch, please share! Also, please vote if you think I should change the name of my blog to "Washington Ditch".

P.S. I was going to apologize for not having a better blog post, but then I remembered all the posts I've been reading about "Twilight" and figured this post is way better than all those posts. Please, no more Twilight posts. P L E A S E ! ! !

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.

Deep Thoughts

In an effort to record my random thoughts, I have started this blog. I might as well jump on the bandwagon.