Lee Geiger

The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams

Eleanor Roosevelt

May 31, 2018– We crawl bumper-to-bumper along Florida’s Highway 436, a homely six-lane thoroughfare flanked on both sides by a conga line of never ending strip malls and drive-thru Chick-fil-A’s. The Pretty Blonde and I are on our way to Full Sail University to attend the school’s Video Gaming Forum, an afternoon extravaganza showcasing video games produced from scratch by Full Sail students. By this time tomorrow, The Skinny Kid, a.k.a. Keith Geiger, will complete a 20-month Full Sail University odyssey culminating in a Bachelor of Science degree in Game Development. (the science of programming, rather than the art of designing, video games)

Thanks to traffic lights every quarter-mile lasting long enough to part the Red Sea, the ten-mile drive from our hotel to the school takes as much time as a flight from San Francisco to LA, minus the free peanuts. If this is Orlando, where in the name of Walt Disney are Minnie, Mickey and Goofy? Halfway through our slog, I notice a squatty, two-story concrete blockhouse with “HERZING UNIVERSITY” splashed across the roofline. The beige featureless building, proclaiming itself to be a beacon of academia, looks as welcoming as a firing squad. I point out the nondescript edifice to The Pretty Blonde and ask, “I wonder if that’s what Full Sail University looks like?”

Ah, no.

By the end of the day, we discover with our very own eyes that Full Sail University, a private, for-profit university founded in 1979 emphasizing degree programs in the entertainment and media arts, consists of 27 buildings spread over 217 acres. The campus feels like a giant collaborative entertainment complex, with live venues, production studios and a Hollywood-style backlot. The school’s Hall of Fame museum features a cavalcade of Emmy’s, Tony’s, Grammy’s, and Oscars won by distinguished alumni, including two trophies for technical achievements garnered at this year’s Academy Awards. Classes and labs, which can be taken online or on-campus, take place round the clock, and degree courses progress month-to month to fully immerse students in their education. You don’t attend Full Sail simply to study and learn; you attend Full Sail because you want to graduate knowing how to actually DO something.

The Video Gaming Forum, held in cavernous Full Sail Studios (2.2 acres, 20,000 square feet), has the feel of a Las Vegas convention, with vendors, students, parents and future employers canvassing the hundred-plus newly-minted video games. The game created by Keith and a pair of his classmates draws a pretty decent audience, and I spend most of my afternoon getting my head wrapped around the concept that Keith’s amazing concoction of animation and color started out three months ago as a blank white screen. It takes me three months to post a picture on Instagram. 

June 1, 2018– Graduation Day has finally arrived. We meet Keith for a pre-ceremony lunch, where he informs us he’ll be recognized during the festivities for winning some type of academic award. We lavish praise on him, as Keith has accomplished everything we wanted him to do and everything he said he would do. After the debacle that became known in our family as The Battle of Carnegie Mellon, it would have been easy for everyone involved to cash in their chips and spend the rest of our lives pointing fingers at one another. Instead, The Pretty Blonde and I decided to trust our son and support his passion for video game programming in any way we could. All we asked of Keith was that he take classes at Full Sail’s campus near Orlando rather than live at home and pursue a degree online. Oh yeah, and to do well in school and leverage his education to land a job. No pressure.

Speaking of jobs, we have something else to celebrate at lunch. In two weeks, Keith will be starting his video game programming career in Waterloo, Iowa at a company called Scientific Games, Inc. And you read that correctly: Waterloo…Iowa. The publicly traded company (SGMS), headquartered in Las Vegas and with over 8,000 employees worldwide, develops technology-based products and services associated with the gaming, lottery and interactive gaming industries. I have no idea why the company has a tech subsidiary based in Waterloo, but I do know that Iowa is a great place to call home and that it costs virtually nothing to live there. And the corn is pretty sweet, too.

After lunch, despite outdoor weather conditions that could steam broccoli, Keith and I decide to take a long walk along a boardwalk circling a lake near our hotel. To say it was emotional would be a gross understatement. Though I prefer not to delve into the specifics of our conversation, I will say that tears, apologies and hugs were exchanged. I told Keith how was proud I was of him. But more importantly, that he should be very proud of himself. Keith was graduating from the school he wanted to attend, with the degree he wanted to earn. He could have acquiesced to his parent’s wishes and earned a degree from Carnegie Mellon, but he wouldn’t have been true to himself. And at 24 years of age, armed with an education and an exciting new job opportunity waiting for him in a completely new town, Keith had discovered his professional passion and attained the maturity to knew exactly who he was and who he wasn’t. That’s all a parent can ask for.

The Pretty Blonde and I arrive at the graduation ceremony and settle into our seats. The atmosphere inside Full Sail Studio is positively electric, with music a-blaring and lights a-flashing. This isn’t your father’s collegiate graduation service, where violins and harps are played, and somber rites of observance and tradition have been passed down through the ages. This is American Idol!

I wonder to myself if the cacophony of sight and sound will prevent me from crying. It’s been five long years since I let loose a torrent of tears at my son Ross’s graduation. But that was at Brown. The Ivy League. A venerable academic institution located at the top of a hill. This was Full Sail University, a campus with no dorms, no grass or trees, an asphalt parking lot the size of Rhode Island and a Chili’s restaurant for a dining hall. But that’s okay, because Keith isn’t Brown. Or the Ivy League. Or Carnegie Mellon. He’s Keith.

At the drop of a hat, the music dials down the hip-hop and morphs into the traditional strains of Pomp and Circumstance. My eyes squint, and soon a tear starts to roll down my cheek. Then I see Keith, smiling broadly in his cap and gown, and I need to pull the tissues from my pocket.

When they call Keith’s name, this flashes up on the screen.

By the time he shakes hands with the dean and receives his diploma, I am a certifiable sloppy mess. The Pretty Blonde and I are just so happy and proud.

So is Keith. And that’s all that matters.