SCARF & The Buckaroo Ball

Cowboying-Up For a Good Cause!

The Director and I

When I learned as an eleven year old that I was moving to Wichita from Atlanta, I was, quite frankly, unimpressed. To sell us kids on the move, the future executive director for the Sunlight Children’s Advocacy & Rights Foundation (SCARF) – or as I call her, mom – bought the Brantner brothers cowboy boots because, having never set foot in the state of Kansas and prone to believing stereotypes, it was her assumption that Midwest kids were cowboys. In spite of (or maybe, to spite) her best efforts, I did not wear them once. A mere twenty-one years later though, my brothers and I reunited in Wichita and donned full cowboy gear for a fundraiser, the Buckaroo Ball, fulfilling this destiny. It would appear that gratitude for a kind gesture falls outside of the statute of limitations.

After having valiantly served the school kids of Atlanta and Wichita for (she’d kill me if I divulge the specific number of) decades, our mother, Suzi Thien, followed her passion for child advocacy into an environment where she could help make an even bigger impact. She applied for the position of SCARF executive director on the theory that her experience as a school counselor plus volunteer work with those less fortunate, combined with her love of children and innate desire to protect those who are most troubled, not to mention the thick skin she developed raising three mouthy, over-active, hyper-competitive boys, would be enough for this great organization to make a leap of faith and offer her the position.

And that’s exactly what happened. She found herself in this new role, her first job outside of the education system since college, having impressed the organization to the extent that she was offered the job in spite of the fact that, due to nerves or general forgetfulness, she wore just one earring to the interview.

The SCARF mission is simple: To provide resources and facilities that support and protect abused and neglected children and their families.

Located in El Dorado, KS, this organization has helped over 800 children deal with abuse and neglect since 2007. SCARF, and specifically the Sunlight Child Advocacy Center (CAC), offers a safe environment in which forensically trained professionals can interview abused or neglected children, so they can report their story just once. Without this organization, these emotionally-affected children may have to relive their horrific experience repeatedly in locations that can be scary and intimidating to kids, such as police stations, courthouses, doctor’s offices.

SCARF staff members conduct the taped (audio and video) interviews in a child-friendly room with the appropriate authorities for two main reasons: 1) to have an accurate, documented record of what the child has reported, thus reducing the need for multiple interviews, and 2) to provide evidence to the prosecution, should the case go to trial.

Depending on the nature of the case, SCARF may work with representatives from law enforcement, the Department for Children and Families (DCF), medical and mental health, prosecution, or family advocacy to ensure that once all facts have been reported, the child’s case can be brought to justice as swiftly as possible. This removes the burden from the child and their non-offending family, and puts it in the hands of those who best know how to handle it. And more importantly, it allows victims of abuse to move past their trauma and begin the difficult healing process, emotionally, psychologically and often times, physically.

SCARF is led by a passionate board, many of whom have experience in dealing with child abuse investigations, or are concerned community members acting on behalf of abused and neglected children. These generous individuals value the creation of an environment in which abuse cases are responded to properly, yet they also strive to prevent such instances through education of child abuse awareness, prevention, recognition, and reporting issues in the community. 

Staff and board members often speak at schools, churches and community groups, raising awareness for their cause, teaching children and their families signs to look for in abuse cases and providing information for how to act when such horrible instances occur. It’s scary and incredibly sad to know that over 90% of child abusers are known by their victims. That’s nine out of ten cases. People need to know how to report this, if not prevent it from happening at all. This is why SCARF exists.

  

True to the spirit of their mission, their current goal is to raise funds to build the SunshineChildren’s Home. This facility, which will be located on a patch of donated land on the outskirts of Andover, KS, will provide placement services to children from Butler, Elk and Greenwood counties who have been temporarily removed from their home due to abuse or neglect. To illustrate this need, consider that last year alone approximately 180 children from Butler County were interviewed at the CAC for abuse or neglect.

This is the Dream!

The financial goal for this venture is $2.5 million, and it comes with a wonderfully uplifting name: “A Child’s Secret”: A Capital Campaign for the Construction of Sunshine Children’s Home. Having already secured $1.8 million in gifts, pledges and in-kind donations, along with an incredible $406,000 challenge grant from the Mabee Foundation, this dream is becoming evermore a reality.

  

Nothing has been taken for granted, though. The hard work and long hours put in by SCARF staff and board members is incalculable. Mom is a long way from sending us boys out with candy bars or working smoke-filled bingo halls on Friday nights for soccer fundraisers. You can’t get what you don’t ask for, and you may have to ask more than thrice, but this crew is persistent. A major fundraising project like this is difficult enough in normal times, nevertheless in a climate of tough economic and political circumstances. Not to mention in the state of Kansas.

Mom has spent so much time outside of her comfort zone that this gray space has been permanently and forever altered. For years all she asked for was that her students respect each other, score well on standardized tests and, like any working mother, to have a moment or two of peace and quiet during the day. And of course, for her kids to not fight with each other. Now, she has her hands out and is armed with a strategy, an excellent team, and a life-long passion for child advocacy – all for a cause that’s far too important to be forgotten or given lip service. Lives do depend on this. 

There are many ways to help. If you’ve been so impassioned by what you’ve read so far that your wallet has mysteriously jumped out of your pocket or purse and is resting by your preferred electronic computing device, DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER. Go to the link below to learn about the many ways in which you can help the Sunshine Children’s Home thrive. Then, once you’ve done so, you can continue reading this story. Or not - take yourself out to a movie or buy a puppy as a reward for such a kind and generous act. 

http://www.scarfks.org/sunshine-childrens-home

If you need more convincing, that’s fine too. I invite you to continue reading...

A major source of funding for the Children’s Home, as well as other SCARF operations, is the Buckaroo Ball of Butler County. And it’s just as awesome as it sounds.

I openly admit sounding like one-song iPod on shuffle by stating that this massive undertaking is only possible through the enormous help and talent of the SCARF board and staff, as well as other members of the Buckaroo Ball Committee. They put in hours (upon hours, upon hours) to secure auction items, food and drink donations, MC’s, guest speakers and the band. They coordinate the facility - rustic Murfin Stables – and somehow plan a party, a dinner, an auction and a speaker series all in one. This is all to have, according to the event website, a “Boot Scootin’ Fun”. Leave your hanging “g’s” and monetary filters at home.

The "A" Team

Free drinks tend to help with that last point, and combined with the adrenaline you feel by dressing up as a cowboy, it sets the stage for a night of hooting, a bit of hollering, some loose wallets, and my personal favorite, double-denim sightings.

City Slickers, we are not

Soon-to-be-generous donors walked the wall, eyeing the silent auction prizes while my brothers and I tried our best to mimic the smile, gait and vocabulary of rich cowboys. For some reason, I imagined myself as the “rich Texan” from The Simpsons. Wearing western shirts, boots, oversized belt buckles and bolo ties made this easy, and certainly entertaining. We were acting out the erroneous stereotype my mother tried to shoehorn us into over two decades ago. And I don’t think we offended anyone.

Sweet deals at the silent auction

  

Almost all of the silent auction prizes went on to fetch three figures, some of them significantly more. We did our best to drive up prices as an excuse for conversation, with varied success. We learned quickly, though, that the real money, the real charity, was seen in the live auction. It’s easy to give up on an item when it requires you to walk, bend at the waist and put pen to paper. It’s much more difficult when a fast-talking auctioneer calls you out by name.

Because no one likes to spend thousands (yes, thousands) of dollars on an empty stomach, we were provided amazing, oversized steaks that warmed the soul, and dulled the senses. The sweets were incredible, and fortunately for me, they were gone within a reasonable time frame, the dessert table scavenged like something from a George Romero film. My oversized belt buckle was getting resistance from my blue jeans, and another strawberry icing shot may have given the denim side an unfair advantage.

Scootin' through the buffet line

Warning: Overindulgence may lead to overbidding

During dinner there was a steady flow of introductions, stories and events leading up to the live auction. We were introduced to the SCARF board, staff and Buckaroo Ball planning committee who had organized the event. Nichole Johnson, who participated on “The Voice”, a show I’m told Usher is now on, sang for us. I only remember bits of it because I was expending massive amounts of energy fighting off a serious steak & potatoes coma.

We were treated to a fascinating story from Sloane Lewis, Miss Kansas. She detailed what it was like growing up bi-racially in a small Kansas town, and how her perception of herself as a kid was derived entirely from what others told her. How it was a struggle to figure out her own identity, as opposed to simply believing what others told her. This simple yet universal message could benefit millions of children, especially those who suffer from neglect or abuse, as they mature and look to find meaning in a world where it’s commonplace to judge someone based only on what the eye can see. It was an emotional speech, and not a single other person was talking when it ended; Miss Kansas left a crowd of knotty throats and glassy eyes.

Charity work for Miss Kansas, posing with the Brantner brothers

The last act before the live auction rang powerful as individuals affected by abuse, either personally or from within their family, walked down a ramp at the back of the room holding signs with messages detailing the particular atrocity suffered. It was a tactful display of hope, as these brave individuals walked tall yet bared their deepest shame and humiliation for all to see. That they could expose such a personal issue, yet do so confidently and without fear, sent a message to the audience: Child abuse and neglect are pervasive and can affect anyone in any society, and when it happens, the affected child may be too scared to report it, fearing they’ll be the ones who get in trouble. This is especially true in the high percentage of cases where the child knows the abuser. Proof was staring down at us, compelling us to read their story, as the once-jubilant group sat in silence, emotions a thick cloud for all to see, unable, unwilling to look away.

  

Anyone that was on the verge tears after Miss Kansas gave in at this point. Among the bidders in the audience, you could look around and, statistically speaking, ask yourself how many of these people here tonight could have been affected by something this sick. It’s scary as hell.

  

This is what set the stage for the live auction, the Buckaroo Ball’s primary source of fundraising. Apparently drinks, sugar, red meat and an emotional Chuck Norris to the gut are key to a successful auction, as air began circulating throughout the barn due to the increasingly rapid ascension of bid cards. Knowing my pockets weren’t deep enough for this part of the show, I was able to watch with non-attached amazement as bid prices rose at an astounding rate.

The highlight of the night, for our family at least, was watching bidders go hog-wild over Jet BBQ’s donation of a whole pig and baked beans, a catering for 50. Improbably, bidders went back and forth, lubricated by the auctioneer’s smooth salesmanship. One thousand dollars…two thousand dollars...three thousand dollars, then SOLD, for a sum of three thousand two hundred dollars. Before we could even high-five Jet Man, he was flashing the peace sign, offering up another catering. When that one topped three grand, he did what any self-respecting entrepreneur would do…and tripled the order. His three caterings alone brought in just shy of ten thousand dollars. Simply amazing! And to those lucky winners, I can assure you that, after years of midnight snacking on pork ribs, it was well worth it.

Jet BBQ: Good Q' Since 1982

This was just one example of the big-heartedness of the crowd that night. Astonishingly, the 330 plus members that night raised over $140,000 for SCARF, the most successful Buckaroo Ball to date.  Those who participated in the silent and live auctions know that their impact will be felt, know that their generosity went to a great cause. After witnessing the event I now fully understand the excitement that swells around mom as she describes the team’s efforts to secure funding for the children’s home. And it makes me want to join in.  

  

Knowing that she is a part of this effort makes me so proud of who she has become in her post-education life. That she speaks on behalf of those without a voice and works to provide hope to those who have lost their innocence, she, along with her colleagues, are creating an environment where those who have been abused can seek the help they so justly deserve, then move forward. Where the stigma of victimization is replaced with outrage and societal banishment for abusers and their silent, yet knowing accomplices. Their message is getting out - look no further than the Penn State campus for evidence of this.  

SCARF's executive director, obviously recovering from a calf-roping injury

What SCARF and its staff do for the under-represented is not for the meek or for those who need constant congratulation.  But they are making a difference. Society will respond. I saw it first-hand at the Buckaroo Ball.  

Boulevard Brewery Tour

KC Nanobrews Fancy Private Tour

Freud would have a field day with this image

The mission of KC Nanobrews, the only Kansas City based American Homebrewers Association (AHA) social club run by friends of mine who I one day hope produce cool laminated membership cards, is simple: To promote and educate homebrewers in the production of craft-style homebrewed beers. 

A large part of that is realized through weekend and not-so-weekend drinking. And sometimes lighting stuff on fire. 

The mission of the Boulevard Brewing Company, the largest specialty brewer in the Midwest, is equally simple: To produce fresh, flavorful beers using the finest traditional ingredients and the best of both old and new brewing techniques. 

Based on the colorful employee photos lining the brewery's halls, a large part of that is also realized through weekend and not-so-weekend as well as on/off-the-job drinking. Only they get paid to do it. 

With such comprable mission statements, it was only a matter of time before the raw and spunky broth of KC Nanobrews was thrown into the same orange Gatorade cooler as the refined yet distinctive milled grain of the Boulevard Brewery, whisked gently with a giant wooden spoon and (insert something sciencey here) for four months before producing a quality craft beer the Gods themselves would dare not imbibe, but temporarily savor in their palette before spraying it over their minions. 

Two brands, one purpose: Make Beer!

Self-proclaimed KC Nanobrews smartass and frequent wearer of punk-rock inspired wigs, Frank organized this private tasting at our favorite Kansas City brewery, an event that in the immortalized words of the fictional Richard Hammond, "spared no expense." Tables of cheese, chips, dips, breads, cookies and vegetables greeted members of the Nanobrew Crew, their friends and others who simply share a passion for brewing, drinking and touring. 

Forgiving the newspaper placemats, this really was a classy affair

We congregated in the Tasting Room, a fully stocked bar with retro decor inspired by Boulevard's early years. Large framed photographs detailing the growth of company, building and owner lined the walls; dusty trophies and shiny medals from decades-old competitions showed how they gained popularity through notoriety (highlight was a first place medal for the "new" Boulevard Wheat beer); seemingly ancient advertisements, signs and bottles proved that while class, style and taste have remained consistent, hairstyles and graphical capabilities did not. You get the impression that if Chuck Norris and Joan of Arc had a son who resided in Kansas City and sucked at karate, he'd be the owner of this place. 

Full house in the Tasting Room

Though neigh a drop of the taste-bud-demolishing yet highly elusive Coffee Ale - a delicious seasonal Boulevard brewed with The Roastarie coffee - was to be found on the Tasting Room taps, there were a few test beers for our group to sample, as well as stalwarts such as Single Wide, Pale Ale, 80-Acre and Stout, to name just a few. This somehow managed to keep us occupied as the serious brewers chatted about techniques for their "mash" (my new favorite brewing word - apologies if it's not being use correctly), the newbies and not-so-passionates talked about their favorite styles of beer, the tag-alongs drank, nodded, tried to look cool while surreptitiously watching Georgetown get spanked by Florida Gulf Coast, and Amy ordered a glass of wine (don't take this personally - I'm simply reporting the facts).

Familiar and secret options on tap

After an hour - two to three beers depending on how bad your particular work-week was - we were led on the tour by our cheerful bartender who admitted that she knew only slightly more about brewing that I did. Her stipulations were simple: "Try not to break anything and don't correct me if something I say is inaccurate." I tried to boost her confidence when she asked us to shout out the four main ingredients that go into brewing beer, and I proclaimed "Cranberries!" For the record, and in an attempt to provide at least one useful nugget in this post, they are: Water, Yeast, Malt and Hops. 

These make beer taste like beer

The Boulevard story is humble and inspiring, like those of most successful entrepreneurial start-ups. The operation began keg-by-keg, evolving into a 600,000+ barrel operation. Since I won't be able to do it justice without completely ripping it from their site, I highly recommend you take their virtual tour, starting here: Boulevard History. 


The tour saw us escorted through the barrel rooms, mash-houses, mixing areas and the bottling warehouse (real names may vary from descriptions). We stood under massive stacks of kegs, posed next to pallets full of non-labeled bottles, got lost in a maze of tubes, pipes, funnels and filters - all ridiculously oversized. For most of the tour we felt like the kids in Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. We tried to interpret computer readouts ripped from sci-fi submarines, resisting the urge to press just one button - you know...to see what would happen, for educational purposes. Touching the machinery was strictly prohibited, though way too tempting, I justified to myself as I left tiny fingerprints on the most chromed of apparati. 

Since in my last beer-related post I firmly established myself as a curious observer of the craft brewing process, not an expert in anything more valuable than where to deposit empty bottles, I share with you below the following images from our tour, each of which, using their thousand-word capability, will provide more insight into how beer is brewed than I ever could, even if I were verbally dictating one of Rob's amazing recipes. So, as they say in the brewing industry, "Chug It Out!"* 

* There is a strong possibility that not one single brewmaster, apprentice brewer, homebrewer or liquor store clerk throughout mankind's long and storied history has ever uttered this phrase. 

The KC Nanobrews crew in a comically oversized freight elevator

Check us out in this one room, where they do that thing...

Beer Brogramming

These beer keg helmets protect the brew from dust, oxygen, rodentia and avian bird flu

Part of me secretly hoped that that guy would accidentally knock over this entire display

Johan posing next to the weekend's delivery for Lambda Lambda Lambda

After the tour ended we regrouped in the Tasting Room for some more conversation and a few nightcaps. After the tour and seeing how professionals ply their craft, did the members of KC Nanobrews learn anything from this experience? I hope so. I hope it stimulated their curiosity and answered any questions, concerns or brewing-related fears sloshing in their brains. If I've learned anything from the KC Nano Crew, it's that brewing beer is a dynamic process, open to interpretation, subject to opinion, better when using a pinch...or is that a drop...maybe just a hint of that potent secret ingredient. 

So even though they won't start producing hundreds of bottles of beer every minute, maybe they'll be motivated to brew one more batch per month than they typically do. Or send more beer into competitions for judgement. Wear their first-place medals with a little more pride. Because as we all learned at the Boulevard Brewery, success has humble, and sometimes hoppy, beginnings. 

To learn more about KC Nanobrews, and join their cause, go here: http://www.kcnanobrews.com/

For more information on the group's founders, and randomly hilarious facts about the movie The Goonies, go here: http://www.kcnanobrews.com/about/

To check them out on Facebook to do Facebookey things, go here: Facebook Page

And finally, to witness Zach proving that imitation is the sincerest form of awesomeness, point your eyes slightly downward...

LEGOLAND

Not Just For The Kids! 

(Though Eric dominated the score column, Georgia won the intense-blackout-stare-down contest)

For the first time, maybe in my entire working career, I skipped work (legally, debiting 8 PTO hours, of course) in the month of March for something that wasn't related to college basketball: joining my nieces and brother at LEGOLAND. Not only was it thoroughly enjoyable, I was able to return to work the following day with neither horse voice, mood swings nor hangover. 

(So much energy, those girls)

Not living in the same city as the girls, this sort of arrangement just doesn't happen. When I do see them, it's usually around my loving yet uber-busy family, with events to attend, meals to cook, dolls to play with (why the hell do I know what Winx are?) and a constant rolodex of cheek-pinching fingers of all shapes and sizes pinching their four tiny, reddened, elastic cheeks. So it was nice to spend a day with them and Eric, just the four of us, without adult supervision. 

When Eric was planning his Kansas City Spring Break 2013 vacation, I told him I'd take one day off, so he gave me the choice of tagging along for LEGOLAND or the SEA LIFE Aquarium, two attractions that share a space together in Crown Center, and that also, emphatically, love all-caps. The choice was relatively easy for two reasons: 1) I'm a dude, and 2) I'm terrified of aquariums. OK, it's not exactly terror, but it unnerves me to witness fish, seals, cute penguins, dolphins, bears - especially the bears at the zoo, those cocky, free-swimming mitt-pawed bears - from below. It's not natural, and what if the glass breaks? Whoever invented the subterranean walkways with transparent aquarium walls is a jerk!

LEGOLAND it was. After coffee in the hotel room with Eric, watching the girls watch Pocahontas for only the third time in the previous twelve hours (great gift, aunt Jess, uncle David, cousin Reagan), we packed up and headed to Crown Center. We passed the time in line warming up under heat lamps, watching Georgia almost not to throw the freebee Legos that seemingly fell from the sky, and tried not to singe Sydney's hair on said heat lamp while sitting atop my giant brothers' shoulders. And we talked about how it could be interpreted for two dudes to take two girls to LEGOLAND. 

As if she read our thoughts, on cue, the lady guiding us from the outside line to the inside line greeted the girls with, "Are your daddies going to sing karaoke today? Maybe the new Justin Bieber song?" Well isn't that special? Luckily the girls didn't know what karaoke was, who Justin Bieber is or why it was hilarious that we'd been mistaken for a couple. We just nodded, laughed, fake-talked about manly stuff; then I went to wrangle the girls, who, oblivious to the humor around us, were fogging up a kid's-eye-view aquarium with their nostrils. 

To say that LEGOLAND exceeded expectations is putting it mildly - it definitely falls into the category of "fun for adults too". Maybe it's because I haven't been to a hundred different kids-themed attractions as an adult, or maybe, likely, it's because I miss playing with Legos; but I was intrigued from the moment we entered. I should also point out that the girls were captivated from the moment they entered, so no one leaves this post with the impression that it was all about me. 

(I witnessed Sydney and this Knight exchange email addresses)

We split kid-wrassling duties using the near/far method, as in, Sydney always went to the furthest reaches of the room and Georgia fled in the opposite direction, so we split up and met in the middle. Still a bit young to stand patiently and listen any Lego-logo'ed adult imparting wisdom on the group, the girls instead opted to create their own private tour, allowing Eric and I to make up a bunch of stuff about Legos, pretending as if we actually knew what we were talking about. 

(These are the faces you make after waiting in line for twenty minutes)

LEGOLAND is not short on attractions. After a brief non-listened-to tour telling us how Legos are created (spoiler alert: science), we mounted a shuttlecraft and were told to shoot spiders, witches and bad guys with lazer-tag ray guns, visible in the picture at the top. Direct hits resulted in points, however those were not made available to us. OK, Eric smoked us while simultaneously instructing Georgia and Sydney on where to point their guns. Early on, I realized the girls would have fun regardless of point score, so I engaged in a futile attempt to one-up my younger brother. Georgia was super-serious and Sydney would have out-scored us all if there were targets on the ceiling. Proving it was a successful ride, both girls ended the ride with chest-bumps and hi-fives. Just kidding, they asked if we could do it again. 

(Great Lego work, but they could have done without the shadow on his tights..)

Immediately after exiting the ride, I was passive-aggressively pressured into buying photos of our exploits (see above, again), and threw in a few keychains, because after all, that's what uncles do. Keeping up the theme of fun-in-motion, we went to a Merlin's Apprentice-themed merry-go-round that made me wish I had an anti-nausea potion. Those rides never sit right with me, and though I hadn't been on one in years, the uneasiness returned. The girls enjoyed it, even though I suspect they didn't realize that the machine worked regardless of how fast they were pedaling. In fact I know this, because when I stopped pedaling, opting instead to focus on everything but the blurry landscape, Georgia scalded me for, "not trying hard enough". I assured her that my heart was in the game, and that I wouldn't slip up again. She was gracious. 

(Eric and Sydney in their chariot. My phone camera is terrible)

Opting to enjoy the next phase sitting down, the four of us collected plastic glasses and were treated to our very first 4-D movie. A touching story about a charming blonde slacker engaging in an off-road car race against a team of angry, uniformed, presumably bad guys. As the cars cranked up the RPM's, massive fans blew wind in our direction, prompting the girls to laugh, ooh, and adorably, aah. They just loved it. And Eric and I loved not chasing them around. It was the calmest fifteen minutes of the day. 

(Patiently, quietly waiting in line)

We were let out into an area that had giant Lego creations, constructed as mini-monuments to favorite animals, cities and fantasy lands. Sydney was mesmerized by the gigantic (her perspective) Emerald City, and thrilled to have the power to spin Dorothy's house with the push of a button. Eric looked a giraffe directly in the eyes from a standing position, which, at six-foot-alot, is still quite impressive.  The Kansas City skyline was interesting to look at, though due to my inability to read maps, I cannot verify it's authenticity. 

(Looking for the man behind the curtain)

(Kansas City landmark)

(Eric trying not to let on to how awesome this moment is)

Needing to fuel up, Eric waited in line for no less than forty minutes to purchase one hot dog, two slices of pizza, nachos, a drink and two fruit cups. Apparently this is how people with kids eat - buy an assortment of random items, see what they'll throw down their gullets then pick at the rest. Eric had at minimum one bite of everything save the fruit cup, which Georgia declined, much to his delight. 

Before we ate, with Eric waiting in line - must have been an unpredictable day at LEGOLAND, with only one worker staffed during the lunch rush - the girls and I sidled up to one of the many Lego pits inviting customers to play. Georgia created a masterpiece all on her own. Sydney let me assist her with the foundation of the house, but shooed me away for the interior decorating phase. Tellingly, this provided the second chance of the day for the girls to focus on something other than running in opposite directions. I hope to one day apply the same focus and attention to any daily or work-related task as they did to building their Lego huts. Or to ever have as much fun. 

(Not satisfied with one house, Georgia created an empire)

After lunch came the only double-daddy fail of the day. Neither Eric nor I could figure out the Race-car section. In our defense...it was pretty damn difficult. Large containers of Legos, tiny axels and wheels of all sizes lay in front of us. Reaching over pre-teens having much more success than us, we fiddled and Mr. Potato-headed the various pieces into unrecognizable pieces of non-transporting junk. And understandably our poor effort wasn't good enough for the girls. Finally, Eric managed to connect two sets of two wheels (different sizes, naturally) using the absolute minimal amount of Legos and axels possible. The monstrosity made it approximately thirty-six inches down the ramp before splintering apart like the plane in Con Air destroying the Las Vegas strip. We debated asking other kids for help, but when our pride kicked in, we solved the problem like any good American would: we fled to the gift shop. 

(If you look real hard, you'll see the piece of junk Eric and I passed off as a car)

Out of the hundreds of different Lego sets in the massive gift shop, Georgia and Sydney would up choosing, you guessed it, the exact same car. They both seemed cool with it (I'm not sure of parental protocol for this since us Brantner boys were terrible sharers as kids) so we forged ahead. The kids were extremely appreciative of the gift, the day and the experience. Georgia punctuated this by passing out in the car with her arms bear-hugging her new toy. 

(I never understood why parents took this photo until I saw it happen first-hand: the sign of a job well done)

Back in the hotel room, before an exhausting swim session, we pieced together the girls' new Lego sets. I helped Syd with hers while Eric supervised Georgia on the other side of the room. I forgot just how easy - and fun! - Legos were. I put Sydney on collection duty, which was fine with her. Georgia, with surprising patience and dexterity, was able to complete her girl/dog/car combo almost all by herself. Randomly, before finishing, and without talking to anyone in particular, she exclaimed, "I'm having so much fun today!" I can't imagine how that must have felt as a parent, since it filled me with extreme gratification as an uncle. Funny how the little moments can have such an impact. 

It was truly a day I will cherish. It was so nice to be with the girls, the whole day to ourselves with no agenda other than to enjoy ourselves and goof off. Heck, they even ate real Kansas City barbecue for dinner. Hopefully this is the first of many such visits - I'll be saving up my PTO just in case.

KC Nanobrew Winter Summit

Brewing for Beginners. And Experts. And Dudes. 

(This guy's beer will be in your belly in three months)

I’m not quite sure why they call it nanobrewing, since there was nothing inherently “nano” about the amount of beer that was brewed consumed brewed this past weekend with the dudes of KC Nanobrews, at the Stuck Truck Brewery. Or as I like to call it, Chad’s house.

Brewmasters and malted-novices alike gathered to witness the birthing of an All-Grain Irish Ale in preparation for St. Patrick’s Day, ensuring that, unlike in year's past, we'll have something to imbibe while watching the Celtics play. This meeting afforded brewers of all levels and experience the opportunity to meet one another, discuss beer-related plans for 2013, watch K-State get spanked, and drink copious amounts of, what else, beer.

Rob and Chad spearheaded the actual brewing process, though in this public forum I won’t divulge any of KC Nanobrews’ trade secrets. Really, I just didn’t pay attention. There was so much going on all at once - the pouring, measuring, filtering, smelling. The sanitizing, steaming, mixing and discussing. It made me dizzy, though ironically so did the beer.

(Chad controlling the steam with his iPhone)

Any brewer worth his hops has to read directions and follow them, know what goes where, and when - there’s a process and it can’t be interrupted or changed in any manner. Or maybe it can. I honestly don’t know. With each subsequent delicious home-brewed beer that went from cup to belly, I understood less and less about what was going on. Yet oddly, the less I understood, the more intrigued I became.

I tried to follow along and comprehend, though as I saturated my body and brain with liberal streams of homebrew, I became utterly unable to understand the magic and wonderment of the brewing process. I should be familiar with the basics by now, having lived with two different home-brewers, however it appears that this is one of those crafts in which expert status is not achieved through osmosis, simple observation or sampling. Even if its strenuous sampling.

(No idea what's in there. Could be beer?)

On a positive note, the goal of this shindig wasn't for me to learn how to brew beer - that would have been an amazing and improbably side consequence. This day's objective was simply a great excuse to spend some time outside on a randomly gorgeous January afternoon, drinking beers and goofing off (more on that later).

  

And though I haven’t mastered the craft and am flunking the entrance exam, I did pick up a few pointers. Brewstervations, if you will. (Holy crap that’s lame, but somehow I don’t want to delete it).

  

For starters, only guys can brew beer – I’m positive of this. Please don’t perceive this as a sexist remark. But there were no women there. At all. So I can only assume.

(Science at work)

Also, homebrew is better than milk - for spicy foods, that is. Screw you, Chad, for throwing an entire jalapeno bush into the chili. You know that that sort of hotness gives me the sweats. Still, the thick, dark, foamy porter did well to combat my imminent tongue swelling. And it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The last time milk did that, things didn’t turn out so great.

Because it takes so long to brew, there needs to be a planned non-dangerous distraction. What is this, you ask? Something to fill in the gaps between the brewing action items. College basketball provides a good distraction, but so does taking advantage of a fire pit. And while the KU game only took two hours, Chad’s yard had at least four good hours of crap to burn. We didn’t plan the bonfire ahead of time; it just sort of happened. I blame the boos, the lack of women, and of course, the fact that there was no pre-determined safe distraction.

  (This is what happens without adult supervision)

And most importantly, I learned that as long as you bring a six-pack of beer, you’re free to sample generously. That’s the best part about having friends who brew – free beer! For us non-brewers, at least. Seems obvious, but like any master craftsman, brewers not only love to create – they love to share. Yes, brewing is a costly and time-consuming hobby that can haunt your living soul as you tinker, tinker, tinker with your formula, striving for hoppy perfection. So if I can add to my buddies’ satisfaction by flashing a stout-stached smile and providing well thought out constructive notes such as, “tastes great!” then all the better. And if all it costs me is a sixer and mileage, well that’s pretty cool.

I plan to mooch off of KC Nanobrews for as long as they’re around, which I hope is forever, and always in my home city. I strive to understand even the most basic elements of the craft, so the next time I share these stories, they comes from a voice of confidence. Even if that means drinking less and taking more notes.

OK, that last part is completely unrealistic. Let’s start with this: I strive to drink less Miller Lite. That I think I can do.

Brew Away!

(I don’t know if brewers actually say this, but I’m pretty sure they do)

Check out this list of KC Nanobrews concoctions for Chad and Amy's wedding. To learn more about this incredible social club, follow them on Facebook.