My Favorite Hippie Chic

We had some good friends visit last weekend. Still a little cool here in central Alabama for porch sitting and grilling, but good company and conversation can usually overcome any setting. Our guests included Steve and Jeanne, Neal and Jennifer Vinson, and the Vinson children: Ivey, Clay, Baylie, and Zach. I want to tell you a little about Ivey, who recently turned fourteen. I call her "my favorite hippie chick."

Ivey is the kind of young lady who can give you hope for the future. In this era of the short attention span, video game/MTV/pop music youth culture, she's a kind of a throwback to another era. A time when kids read books, rode bicycles and played outdoors, and basically had to think up their own fun. For me, she's a treasure, like finding a diamond when you're walking on the beach. I always enjoy the time spent with her and her family.

Ivey has an eclectic intellect. Some of this likely comes from good genes, and some from the freedom of being home schooled. While the smaller children played, Ivey sat with the adults on our back porch as we talked in rambling fashion about various subjects. She had picked up my copy of "Alice in Wonderland", which I had been re-reading before the upcoming release of Tim Burton's film of the same name. I mentioned that I was interested to see what Johnny Depp did in his portrayal of the "mad hatter." Ivey explained that the term "mad hatter" actually came from a time in England when hat-makers used mercury in their process. Mercury poisoning often led to their strange behavior, which coined the phrase "mad as a hatter." Now knowing something like that won't save the world in the next generation, but it will probably come a lot closer to it than knowing what Lady Gaga wore to the Grammys.

Ivey has the soul of an artist. When my wife commented on her purse (which was the size of a grocery bag), Ivey revealed the contents. Among the items: various sewing projects (contents contained within ziplock bags); a very nice Anthology of Poetry; sketch pencils (she noted that she had nine different shades of orange, showing and describing each one to alleviate any skepticism), and other art and craft supplies. This girl can sketch, draw, paint, act, and sing. She makes and sells jewelry. And she might even entertain you with a song if you ask her nicely. My personal favorite is a rendition of Carmen Miranda's "Chiquita Banana" commercial from the late 50's or early 60's.

Ivey is also a natural beauty. Her dad, a former Auburn football player, will likely have to put the fear of God in some young gentlemen callers in a few years. But I don't think he will have too much to worry about. I tried to tickle her at one point during the visit. She reflexively hit me with a straight left hand that vibrated through my bones all the way to my toes. I'm glad she wasn't mad--she might have knocked me out.

I look forward to see where the road will take Ivey. I'm glad I'll be able to say "I knew her when she was just a kid."