A dream came true in the last week, and it almost was a twofer.

I’ve been to a conference of Christian colleges, a seminar at Harvard, and an Oracle convention in the last few weeks. They have all been good, all in different ways.

The Christian conference was in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Living in a college dormitory was enlightening; it was hard to believe that so many good memories came from such an ugly place. College is really for 18 year olds; I was happy to be done with that stage of my life. It was a great conference, and an opportunity to tell many schools about RVA.

My secret dream was to attend one more Oracle convention while I was in the states. I work for the most elite Oracle consulting company in America, and they speak in an odd code that is not understandable for someone with my IQ. Truth is, when I was in the midst of technology, I was never much good at it, but osmosis did help. Being away from it so many years has caused me to sit on conference calls hoping that I will understand at least parts of some sentences.

So obviously, I would not be on the A-team for an Oracle convention. But owing to the miracles of geography, there was an Oracle convention in the town next to ours. My boss, who cures major diseases while flossing her teeth, managed to get me admitted to the floor.

I went to several sessions, which showed me how hopelessly out of it I really am. But then was the Rip Van Winkle moment. I was walking through the exhibitor booths, and someone asked me `Didn’t you use to be Steve Peifer?’

That is actually a harder question to answer than you might think.

I got to celebrate my 50th with lots of friends, including one of my oldest friends who flew up from Connecticut. He is a Yale grad, so he was rather incensed about the whole Harvard thing, which he celebrated by giving me a Harvard shirt, pennant, pin and hat.

He wanted me to be PREPARED.

Harvard was amazing; it was so helpful in learning how to help the kids at RVA. I got to meet with legends in admissions, and I still can’t believe I got to go.

Wednesday night was a free night, and they had tickets to the Boston Pops. One of my dreams in life was to see the Pops in concert.

And yell Freebird.

If you aren’t an American, Freebird is an old rock song that gets requested at every concert in America. It was a dream to yell Freebird at a Pops concert.

But then I had a moral dilemma.

Debbie Boone was playing a concert in the hotel I was staying at. I don’t know about you, but in the 70’s I knew at least three jokes whose punch line was `Debbie Boone.’ I found out there was a 10 pm show, so I would go to the Pops, run back, and have a Freebird twofer.

The Pops was fantastic, and I’m sure yelling Freebird showed my innate sophistication to those Boston hicks, but I have sad news to report on Debbie:

I was the only person to purchase a ticket to the 10pm show. They cancelled the show.

No Neil, and Debbie cancels. How much weight can one man bear?

Fortunately, Nancy got to fly up to Boston on a frequent flier ticket after the conference, and we celebrated 20 years of marriage. Some special friends had done so many special things to make it spectacular for us.

But just being with Nancy is pretty darn spectacular.

I missed Father’s Day, and Katie called me and told me `A daddy should not be away from his precious girl today.’ I’ve never been away from my kids on Fathers day before, and it was sad.

But Nancy and Katie picked me up at the airport, and she just couldn’t stop grinning. It was the best father’s day present ever, even if it was a bit late.

The twins turn four this week, and they are excited about seeing their first ever fireworks. As everything with them, it is all an adventure, and as you celebrate the fourth, be grateful for a country that welcomed our two little ones with open arms.

Your pal,

Steve