This week, my dream of being in an episode of Gilmore Girls came true.

No, not really.

But for all intents and purposes, my experience tonight came straight from the fictional town square of Star’s Hollow, CT. It all started a week or so ago, when I received the following invitation in my mailbox:

I had not had the pleasure of meeting Tom and Jacquie Osborne, but the invitation just seemed kooky enough to be at least entertaining, if not actually enjoyable, and there was going to be cake at the end, so I decided that I would add it to my very empty social calendar.

So Monday night, I packed Eloise up in her stroller and we headed over to the parade. The neighbors assembled, along with our police escorts. Tom Osborne carried a battery operated boom box that played a mix tape of the Second Connecticut Regiment March (or something like that) and the song they play at graduation. We walked around the neighborhood, bookended by the Florence Police Department (yes, there really isn’t a lot of crime in our town, so I guess they didn’t have much else to do) while the kids rode their bikes and scooters covered in flags, dogs with flag bandanas sniffed each other’s butts, and the rest of us sweated like a Richard Simmons video. Every once in a while, Tom would stop to monitor the safety of the group, holding his boombox high over head to make sure the music continued in his absence.

Then we finally made it to the Frank Lloyd Wright House and Tom put down his boombox to treat us to a litte history lesson. He just so happens to own every type of American Flag there ever has been, and we went around the group and told up a little about each one. Here’s a gallery of the event (pics by Ashley Baker).

After the history lesson, we sampled Jacquie’s famous flag day cake and ice cream, swatted mosquitos and met some of our neighbors. I met some new faces and spent time with people I already knew. I met  a cute couple named Ronnie and Connie (or, they said, Ron and Con- whichever I wanted) and Ron told me about how they are trying to make our neighborhood a historic district (historically dorky, I thought) which would make our property value go up. Tom Osborne made sure everyone who was holding one of his flags rolled it properly and returned it to the pine tree. There were some middle eastern women, who were covered from head to toe and sweating profusely.

Now those of you who know me know that I am not the biggest fan of Florence, AL. I always complain that there is nothing to do, nothing cool going on, not hip enough for me. Those things are all really true. But every once in a while, I kinda fall in love with its dorkiness.  Flag Day will probably live on in my mind as one of the most romantic evenings of my small town courtship.

I can’t imagine people doing this in a big city- climbing down out of their apartments to walk on the trash-laden street with flags in their hands past the ATMs, Starbucks and subway stations. They definitely would not have had a police escort. And there definitely won’t be Jacquie Osborne’s cake and ice cream at the end of it all. It all felt so quaint and genuine, that it could only happen in a small town. In my small town. It’s not exactly Star’s Hollow, but it’s close enough.