might be baloney

Last Beach Boy Standing: Al Jardine and the Pet Sounds Band

August 12, 2026 Bill PikeLeave a comment

When I write about the music of Brian Wilson and the Beach Boys, I start with this disclaimer—I’ve been a fan since “Little Saint Nick” was released as a single in 1963.

That was over sixty years ago, but I still have a place in my old heart for their music.

When Al Jardine, one of the founding members of the Beach Boys, announced that he and the Pet Sounds Band would be playing at the Shenandoah Valley Music Festival in Orkney Springs, Virginia on Friday, August 7, 2026, within a day, I had purchased tickets for my wife and me.

Needless to say, I couldn’t wait for August 7 to arrive.

I also made arrangements to stay on the grounds for the concert. Shrine Mont, the organization responsible for the facilities where the festival takes place also offers lodging and family style meals. So we booked accommodations for staying overnight after the concert.

As we neared August 7, we made final checks about our tickets and room reservations. My sister and her husband followed our game plan for attending the concert. They would be making the drive from Snow Camp, North Carolina.

On the morning of Friday, August 7, our goal was to be on the road by 9. We only missed that mark by a few minutes.

From Richmond, we took Interstate 64 west, to Interstate 81 north, followed by US 11, and a couple of turns on Virginia roads that would take us into Orkney Springs.

A significant, single car accident on I-64 west just before Wintergreen slowed us down as did a paving project on the main road into Orkney Springs.

But by 5 p.m. we were all checked in and ready for dinner. Prior to the start of dinner, the Pet Sounds Band was doing a sound check. Hearing the music and voices only made me more excited.

Even though the band was playing under a roof, and our seats were inside the covered pavilion, the forecast leaned toward rain and maybe a thunderstorm hitting the area by 8 p.m. The concert was scheduled to start at 8.

After dinner, we could hear rumbling of thunder about the mountains. With rain in the forecast, we were in our seats by 7:30.

While waiting for the concert to start, occasionally, we would catch a glimpse of one of the musicians from the Pet Sounds Band coming on stage for a last minute equipment check. Even Al was backstage for some conversation.

At some point, everyone from the band cleared the stage. They disappeared into a couple of Shrine Mont houses that served as dressing rooms.

Prior to the start of the concert, the Director of the Shenandoah Valley Music Festival took the stage and made a few announcements.

Just before eight, the wind picked up, and by the time the concert started a steady rain was coming down.

From there, the band ambled on to the stage to applause, and when the audience saw Al, there was more applause.

The opening song was “California Girls,” and from that point on, it was like a gentle Pacific Ocean swell of Brian Wilson’s music had rolled into the tranquil Shenandoah Valley and the surrounding Blue Ridge Mountains.

Except for an intermission, the songs were non-stop. Al’s patter between songs was heartfelt and insightful. He did so with honesty, humor, and a respect for the creativity of Brian’s music.

We laughed as he shared how Dennis Wilson, the original surfer in the Beach Boys attempted to teach Al how to surf. Al said despite Dennis’ skilled instruction, he(Al) sunk like a stone into the Pacific.

In a little over two hours, this talented group of musicians and singers performed thirty four songs. I do not have the ears of a musician, but I heard no miscues.

This included complicated arrangements showcasing seven songs from Pet Sounds(1966) and seven songs from the Love You(1977) album.

The harmonies were crisp, clean, tight, and light as air.

Like the original Beach Boys, the band features strong solo vocalists.

Most notable is Al Jardine who will turn 84 in September. Al still sounds strong. Yes, a tour can wear down a lead singer’s voice, but his lead vocal on “Help Me Rhonda” sounded like 1965 again.

Al’s son, Matt, is blessed with a beautiful voice too. Matt is able to hit those Brian Wilson falsetto parts to perfection. His leads on songs that originally featured either Brian or Brian’s brother Carl’s voices were angelic. Matt also blends well with his dad.

Supplementing the lead vocals is guitarist, Rob Bonfiglio, who is married to Brian Wilson’s daughter, Carney. His lead vocal on “Sail On Sailor” from the 1972 Beach Boys’ album Holland was soulful and spirited. Former Beach Boy, Blondie Chaplain, who sang the lead on the original would have been proud of Rob’s work. Rob is also a fine guitar player.

That lead vocal work continued to Darian Sahanaja. Darian, the musical director for the band and keyboard master, shared his clear and powerful voice on “Darlin” and “I Can Hear Music.” Also, Darian took the leads on songs from Pet Sounds and Love You. Again, Carl Wilson, the Beach Boy who sang lead on those songs would have been impressed with Darian’s voice.

With a couple of the tunes from the Love You album, keyboard player, Gary Griffin, sounded just like Mike Love, and percussionist, Jim Laspesa, sounded like Brian Wilson’s back in 1977.

Instrumentally, all of these guys and one brave lady, keyboardist, Debbie Shair, are gifted musicians. They know their chops and the intricate arrangements found in each song.

Individually and collectively, they are able to reproduce the instrumental tracks from the original recordings. The 1960s session musicians the Wrecking Crew who played on lots of Beach Boys recordings would affirm the skills of the Pet Sounds Band.

The mastery of their musician skills were showcased nicely on the instrumental song, “Pet Sounds.”

Horn player, Paul Von Mertens, handles flute, a couple of saxophones, harmonica, and the bass harmonica. On any song that needs that extra touch, Paul is the guy who adds that depth to the background. Even in the same song, he is capable of switching instruments to meet the requirements of the arrangement.

Debbie Shair and Gary Griffin are a part of the keyboard team with Darian. Need a French horn or a synthesizer sound, Debbie and Gary have you covered. Plus, they provide back up vocals to the blend of harmonies.

And I’m not sure, but Debbie might be the secret choreographer who added the comical, maybe penguin like body movements to the song “Johnny Carson.” Her high leg kicks worked well with the song too.

Percussionist, Jim Laspesa, played to perfection the bicycle horn in the fade out to “You Still Believe In Me” and the slide whistle in “Heroes and Villains.” And Jim is part of the background vocals blend.

If there was a shortcoming to the show, it was that not all of the band was introduced.

On bass is the incomparable, Bob Lizik. Bob has been a part of this band when Brian Wilson started going back out on the road.

His playing is steady and seasoned. This includes the required nuances in every song like “Here Today” from Pet Sounds. Throughout the show, whether the song was simple or complicated, Bob was the foundation for the band.

Set up beside Bob is drummer, Mike D’Amico. Going back to the Wrecking Crew musicians, Mike reminds me of drummer, Hal Blaine.

Mike’s timing is remarkable. He is quick and powerful when needed, but he also possesses a deft, finesse for quieter songs like “In My Room.” Mike anchors and drives the energy of the band. He is relentless.

Tucked away behind the keyboard players is guitarist and backup vocalist, Emeen Zarookian. Emeen is an exceptionally gifted guitarist. I don’t know who found and added Emeen to the band, but that was a wise move. His guitar playing is superb.

No matter the song, Emeen captures with high quality the range of tone needed. His fingers can fly like on “Dance, Dance, Dance” or be graceful, subtle as found on “You Still Believe In Me.”

Vocals especially harmonies have always been a trademark of Brian Wilson and the recordings of the Beach Boys. As I said earlier, I do not have the ears of a musician, but the harmonies tonight were impeccable.

A clear example of this would be “Heroes and Villains.” These gifted singers captured every part of this complex, but magical song.

I could have sat in that pavilion and listened to this band sing and play until the first rays of the sun skimmed the crested tree lines of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

I don’t think I was the only one with that wish. I saw people sitting near me who seemed to stare into that wall of music mesmerized by what they were hearing and seeing.

For fans of the Beach Boys, 2026 has been busy.

In February, Capitol Records released a boxed set that focused on the Beach Boys’ 1977 album Love You.

Then later in May, Capitol Records released a double CD and two different high quality vinyl records celebrating the 60th anniversary of the landmark album Pet Sounds.

For Al Jardine and the Pet Sounds Band, they would be active as well. This included live concert performances of the entire Love You album in support of the box set release. Then in late June and early July, Al and the band toured in Australia and New Zealand.

Long time followers of the Beach Boys know that another founding member and Brian Wilson’s cousin, Mike Love, also tours using the name the Beach Boys. Years ago, it was determined that Mike had the rights to use the Beach Boys name for touring purposes.

It is noteworthy that in late July, Mike and his Beach Boys band paused the summer tour to allow Mike time to rest and “recharge.” Those remaining summer dates have been rescheduled for the fall.

My advice to you—if Al Jardine and the Pet Sounds Band come within driving distance of your home town—you must buy a ticket and go.

The show as billed is a tribute to the music of Brian Wilson. Al and the band’s loyalty and respect for Brian are present from beginning to end. If Brian’s music that he created with the Beach Boys is special to you, you have no options, you must attend.

In closing, I have no idea how much longer Al will continue to tour.

I hope Al will have the good sense to know when it is time to stop performing.

Personally, as much as Brian Wilson loved reconnecting with his fans by performing live, I think Brian stayed on the road too long.

And from the video clips I saw of Mike Love’s performances earlier this summer, I sense that he has over stayed his touring ability.

I hope Al out of respect and loyalty to Brian and the Pet Sounds Band will not stay on the road too long.

For now, I hope the remainder of the tour goes well for Al and the band.

Looking to the future, I would love for a double live album that captures the performances of this tour to be released. Not compiling an album for release would be an insult to the hearts and souls of the Pet Sounds Band.

Continuing that look into the future, might Al consider writing a book about all of his years as a Beach Boy. I think he could offer a unique perspective.

And finally thanks to everyone who is a part of the Shenandoah Valley Music Festival. The director told the audience this is year number sixty three for the organization.

I hope they can continue to be successful for a long, long time. It is a beautiful setting and venue at Shrine Mont in Orkney Springs—long may that stage host gifted musicians.

Down in the window wells of life

August 9, 2026 Bill Pike2 Comments

On the afternoon of Tuesday, July 21, 2026, rain poured from a dark sky.

In truth, I wasn’t surprised because it felt like the air was beyond heavy with moisture.

A body knew that at some point the sky was going to burst wide open, and it did.

At Trinity, I always worry about Eaton Hall, the original social hall of the church.

It is a basement below the Sanctuary.

Over time, I have figured out its bad habits.

This old room doesn’t like cloudbursts.

Keeping the drain clear at the base of the exterior stairs is critical. Keep that drain clear, and less water intrudes.

This afternoon, the challenge wasn’t that drain. No, the challenge came from the window wells that surround Eaton Hall.

The window well drains couldn’t handle the deluge. A few of the wells filled like a bucket under a spigot.

I learned a long time ago that water has a mind of its own. Some water from the window wells did come into Eaton Hall, but I could manage it.

When the storm passed, I checked the window wells from the outside. I saw the problem— lots of tree debris.

The next afternoon, I had a date with the window wells.

One of the window wells (Photo Bill Pike)

To get into the window well requires lifting up the heavy duty wire grate that covers the well.

The grate must be precisely angled across the top of the window well.

This prevents it from tumbling back over me.

Next, I use a broom to clear spider webs and other crawling creatures.

Then I position a short step ladder into the well, and I crawl over the three sided railing.

I step gingerly on to the ladder and get into the well.

I use a small rake, a bucket, and my gloves to clean up the debris.

In the first well there had been a lot of debris and water.

As I worked, I noticed a sluggish, water logged toad was in the well. He didn’t offer much resistance as I scooped him up with both hands.

I was able to place him on some wood chips outside the window well.

My water logged friend (Photo Bill Pike)

With that well clean and clear of debris, I climbed out and checked on my friend.

A cleaned out window well (Photo Bill Pike)

It would take several minutes for the toad to acclimate. His eyes seemed to be carefully studying me.

Finally, I nudged him toward the grass where he continued to rest. I checked on him one more time, and then he was gone.

During the course of the afternoon, I made two more rescues of small slippery frogs that had fallen into the window wells. They appeared to be less water logged than my toad friend.

In the Richmond area this summer, we lost two young men by drowning in local pools.

A couple of weeks ago when were enjoying the beach of Surf City on Topsail Island, North Carolina, we learned that a man was pulled from the ocean in distress. Attempts to revive him were unsuccessful.

I’m not a strong swimmer. I do not take chances in any body of water.

In the Bible, Noah and God took their chances with each other.

I wonder what God saw in Noah who is described as a righteous man.

God must have had a hunch that Noah, despite his age could build the ark, collect the creatures, and explain to his family what God was doing.

God was displeased with how things were going on Earth. The words corruption and violence were used to describe how we humans were making their way through the world.

Sadly, corruption and violence are still at work today.

At times this summer with the extreme temperatures and humidity, I wondered if God was trying to bake us into being better people.

With the heavy rainfall on Tuesday afternoon, I wondered if God was returning to his forty days of rain to flood out the world again.

I was happy when the last window well had been cleared of debris.

My guess is that God would be happier with us if we made the commitment to solve the troubling debris in our lives that divides us.

We appear to have the will to do lots of things, but I’m not sure we have the will to solve our troubling debris.

Why is that?

Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote: “The will of God to which the law gives expression is that men should defeat their enemies by loving them.”

I did not love crawling down into those window wells.

Yet, I knew if that debris wasn’t removed, only more severe problems for Eaton Hall would develop.

Within the window wells of our lives isn’t it time that we crawl down inside and work to remove the debris—the division, the incivility, the disrespect that is hurting us?

Are these the enemies within our souls that are preventing us from being the people that God’s heart needs us to be?

A run over the Surf City Bridge

August 4, 2026 Bill PikeLeave a comment

Day Two Sunday, July 12, 2026

I was up early this morning. Rarely, rarely am I not up early. My body’s internal clock must be locked to civil twilight.

Initially, I didn’t see the sunrise. I saw the power of its early predawn light casting shades of orange and pink into scattered clouds.

Predawn colors starting to show (Photo Bill Pike)

Over the next fifteen minutes, the sun kept slowly rising, and gradually, the familiar orange ball peered over the Atlantic Ocean.

As the sun is waking, I do some exploring on the beach.

I notice the lightweight pattern of a bird’s feet or a crab’s scrabble leaving an imprint on the sand.

Someone has been here. (Photo Bill Pike)

With help of the wind, in some sections, the sand is shaped and rippled.

And there is nothing better than discovering a protected location for a sea turtle nest.

A well marked sea turtle nest (Photo Bill Pike)

Since our rental house was close to the center of Surf City, I opted to go for a run—a run that would take me across the massive Surf City Bridge.

I don’t know how much longer my old body will take me out for a morning run, but I secretly hope— forever.

In working my way toward the bridge, the road is flat and straight as it parallels the beach front. Earlier this morning, our son had run across the bridge. He gave me a few pointers for accessing it.

Careful to abide by pedestrian crosswalks, and early morning traffic merging into the roundabout, I found my way to the bridge.

The flatness of the road surface disappeared. Eventually, my legs were working me up an incline were the arch of the bridge construction peaks. This incline is gradual as the bridge sits 65 feet above the water.

Planners were thoughtful with the design. The bridge not only features stunning views of the tidal areas along the Intracoastal Waterway, but a bike lane and a wide walkway for walkers and runners.
I have ample room to run, but I am mindful of other runners, walkers, and bicycle riders. We all appear to be mindful of each other.

The view no matter where I look is remarkable.

I can only begin to imagine what accessing the island was like before any type of bridge was in place. My guess is that Topsail Island enjoyed its solitude.

I know this—I will cherish this 36:59 run for many years.

By midday, our oldest daughter and her family had arrived. Unfortunately due to work commitments, our son-in-law would only be with us until Wednesday.

The energy level in the house picked up as our four grandchildren enjoyed their beach time and an assortment in-house activities.

In the pre-trip planning, a meal schedule was worked out. Culinary skills would be showcased and tested, but this was no Food Network contest. Nope, just an opportunity to feed twelve hungry beach lovers at the end of the day.

After dinner, the four cousins converge on the deck. They watch storm clouds starting to roll in over the ocean.

Cousins checking out the weather (Photo Elizabeth Cates)

My mind thinks back to our ride through the tiny coastal plain communities we saw yesterday. That apparent poverty is such a contrast to the real estate wealth on the island.

We design and build a $54 million dollar bridge, but we appear to be incapable solving our poverty in America.

Why is that?

If we have the will to build a $54 million dollar bridge, shouldn’t we have the will to solve poverty?

More importantly, what am I doing with my will toward helping to solve that poverty?

“But, I’m a young 77.”

August 1, 2026 Bill PikeLeave a comment

I admire my cousin Alice.

I admire her courage.

When she married the love of her life, Ed, Alice left her Baptist roots for Catholicism.

With their marriage, Ed’s work led them to multiple cities across America.

Not matter where they lived, Alice adjusted.

During those years, Alice became a highly skilled teacher.

No matter where she and Ed lived, children benefited from her teacher heart.

That same heart was useful in the raising of a daughter and son.

That heart is still a source of guidance and love for Ed and Alice’s four grandchildren. Those grands feel that love and support in any number of ways.

Over the last few years, Alice has been battling her health.

A mean melanoma and at times a quirky heart have attempted to wear Alice down.

Despite these health concerns, Alice has kept moving.

A girls trip to England, a family celebration in Boston, holiday family gatherings, beach trips(the latest to Anna Marie Island, Florida), and theater trips to watch her gifted brother perform in local productions.

At the end of May, Alice and Ed traveled to Richmond for the marriage of our youngest daughter. We were honored to have them with us.

That movement to those places is grounded in courage, a courage that says in a quiet way—“go to hell melanoma!”

On Sunday, July 12, we received a health update from Alice. She describe a long day at Duke Hospital on Friday, July 10 with lots of tests.

The doctor found that the current medication has lost its effectiveness in combatting the melanoma.

Options were discussed. Alice has decided to try one more medication.

Sadly, options are limited at this stage of Alice’s life.

In advocating for herself for other optional treatments, Alice said to her doctor, “but, I’m a young 77.”

What this conveyed to the doctor is—I can still fight. I’ve kept moving and active through all of these treatments. Don’t underestimate me because of my age.

Back on July 19, our senior pastor at Trinity United Methodist Church, Gina-Anderson Cloud focused on Luke Chapter 8. Part of these verses are about the woman with a lingering health challenge.

A large crowd of people had gathered around Jesus. Knowing his healing powers, the woman sees him and thinks— “if I can just touch his clothing I will be cured.”

She presses through the crowd just enough to briefly touch his clothing. Instantly, the woman’s health changes. And in that same instant, Jesus senses that a power has left his body.

Jesus challenges the crowd of people asking who had touched him.

Knowing that she couldn’t hold back the truth, the woman confirms to Jesus that she was the one touching his clothing. Jesus says to the woman: “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”

On Monday following the service, I told our senior pastor, I could not hold back my truth—I have always struggled with that scripture.

My struggle is because of my cousin Alice, and the millions like her who want to experience that same touch, that same instant cure from Jesus.

If way back then a person could be cured in a blink, why can’t right now a person be cured by that same touch?

I have written about this scripture before. I’m certain I’m not the only person in this weary, worn world who has the same question.

I will go to my own death with that question on my heart, and so will million others.

Maybe God and Jesus understand, but as a mere human being, I’m sorry, I don’t.

I’m not a subscriber to Bible Gateway, but I do look at the daily scripture reading.

Today on Sunday, July 26 the reading was from Hebrew Chapter 11 verse 1: “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.”

With our health, when we’re “77 years young” we want to have confidence in hope.

And undoubtedly, we want an assurance—no matter how dire our circumstances, we want to be able to touch like the woman in Luke did.

And, we want to hear the same words she heard with her honest, heartfelt confession: “your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”

My young “at 77” cousin Alice (Photo courtesy of Pike family archives}

Getting Away: Surf City On Topsail Island, North Carolina

July 27, 2026 Bill PikeLeave a comment

Day One Saturday, July 11, 2026

The goal was to be on the road by 10 a.m. By 9:45, we were pulling out of our Richmond driveway.

Earlier that morning, I commiserated with our next door neighbor whose family was heading to Atlantic Beach, North Carolina. While our destination was Topsail Island, North Carolina, we both would be at the whims of I-95.

From Maine to Florida, I-95, America’s east coast interstate, eagerly awaited us.

No matter how many attempts designers and engineers with expertise in road construction and traffic control have made to improve this connector of cities and states, in a blink I-95 can become a nightmare.

We did pretty well until 12 noon. That’s when my Commander Supreme’s phone turned bright red.

Slowed traffic on I-95 (Photo Bill Pike)

It wasn’t long before both southbound lanes began a slow crawl down the overheated road surface. We heard no sirens from emergency vehicles. Saw no flashing blue lights from state troopers rushing along the breakdown lane. No flashing signs telling drivers to move into the left lane. No tow truck drivers with yellow lights flashing following the state troopers.

No, what caused this two lane backup was a broken down tractor trailer in the travel lane. Apparently, the truck decided to die in such a way that the driver was not able to coax the monster into the breakdown lane.

Eventually, we worked our way off the interstate to a maze of North Carolina highways that with the correct turns would lead us on to Topsail Island. I can tell you this—I wouldn’t recommend making this drive in the dark of night.

The further east we drove into the coastal plain the deeper you move away from what I take for granted in Richmond.

Way out here, drugstores and storage units are not on every corner. There is no sprawl.

Much of what drivers see in these tiny communities are single, stand alone businesses— a Family Dollar store, a service station at an intersection, and an occasional non-chain restaurant.

Interestingly, we did pass multiple churches, sometimes a school, lots of trailers, and large plots of farmland with corn, soybeans, tobacco, and cotton. It was clear that North Carolina like Virginia is in the midst of a significant drought.

The impact of the drought was most notable with the corn. The corn was parched, stunted by the lack of rain. The corn’s normal lush green has been baked by the sun squeezing out its internal moisture and fading the green.

Hopefully, the drought will gradually resolve itself without too much hurt to farmers and consumers.

On the last miles before the beach, the real challenge for me is trying to figure out why we have been unable to solve and stop the generational cycles of poverty.

All along this route, I see weary looking house trailers. Abandoned, overgrown, houses dot the landscape too. I wonder how many families on either side of the road are barely hanging on? Do they feel any betrayal from the politicians they have supported over the years? Why can’t we break these cycles?

As we approach Surf City on Topsail Island, the traffic lights are blinking red. Trained volunteers are placed at these critical intersections. The volunteers had the challenge of directing all of us crazed tourists before we crossed the intercostal waterway on the Surf City Bridge.

Once over the bridge, we worked our way around the traffic circle to our exit. We drove a short distance before we hooked a left on Raleigh Avenue followed by a quick right on to South Shore Drive. A few more feet, and we arrived at our home for the week—Sitting In The Sand.

Hot, humid air greeted us. Unloading cars started.

Members of our family who were scheduled to arrive on Saturday made it safely.

As we settled in, plans were made to visit the beach and order pizza for dinner.

The house appears to be perfect for our needs. The restless Atlantic Ocean will be in our sight lines all week.

And, I’ll have lots of time to ponder my generational poverty question.

Who at VT is accountable for $95M?

July 22, 2026 Bill Pike2 Comments

Roanoke Times
LETTERS
July 19, 2026

Letter: Who at VT is accountable for $95M?

I haven’t forgotten my first visit to Virginia Tech.

In the late 1970s, on a beautiful fall afternoon, a friend, a Tech graduate, with whom I taught at Martinsville Jr. High School, took me to a football game.

Even then, I sensed there was something unique about this outstanding university.
Years later, that admiration continued. Our oldest daughter is a successful graduate and diehard Hokie.

As an old North Carolina boy, I cheered when Tech entered the Atlantic Coast Conference. Academically and geographically, this was a win for the conference.

Photo of my Virginia Tech hat (Bill Pike)

Despite this affection for a university that has impacted the world beyond Blacksburg’s town limits, I do not understand the school’s relentless pursuit of becoming a dominant player in college athletics.

The recent anonymous gift of $75 million dollars to the school is an example of this quest. I appreciate the donor’s twofold focus with the gift benefiting the school’s athletic department and honors program.

However, there are no guarantees that using these millions to buy the best players, coaches, and building state of the art athletic facilities equals automatic national championships.

Founded as a “land-grant” university in 1872, I wonder how many of Virginia Tech’s “land-grant” peers are consumed by this same push for athletic prominence?

My guess is Virginia Tech’s new football coach, James Franklin, is publicly thrilled with this financial gift.

However, I can only begin to imagine the pressure he must feel to quickly develop his team into a national powerhouse.

Speaking of pressure, does the university’s leadership feel any of that stress to succeed?

If Virginia Tech’s athletic department squanders this investment, other than a coach, who will be held accountable?

Where does that accountability apply to the $95 million in debt that the athletic department already has?

The world was less complicated on my first visit to Virginia Tech.

And yet, I suspect the “lunch pail” in Lane Stadium knows this wisdom from Seneca: “It is not the man who has too little, but the man who craves more, that is poor.”

Hokies, I hope your craving works out.

Bill Pike, Richmond

Note from author: I am always honored when a piece I submit to a newspaper is published. This letter to the editor was published in the Sunday, July 19, 2026 edition of the Roanoke Times. I have many dear friends who are graduates from Virginia Tech. I apologize if the letter offends you. My goal was not to offend. The goal was to ponder one more example of how money continues to rule college sports.

Even in July, the grit of winter is still around

July 19, 2026July 20, 2026 Bill PikeLeave a comment

The extreme heat warning was first issued for Richmond, Virginia on Thursday, July 2, 2026.

Two days later on Saturday, July 4, the extreme heat warning was still in place.

When I left for my run that Saturday morning, the temperature was 77 degrees, humidity 88%, dew point, 73 degrees, and wind out of the south at 3 mph. If you moved an inch in any direction on this miserably uncomfortable morning, you were guaranteed to perspire.

For the next 35:49, that’s all I did. When I finished my run, I was drenched. No part of my old sack of bones was dry.

Despite these conditions, I saw walkers, a couple of runners, and neighbors walking their dogs. One neighbor said to me that he was simply trying to beat the heat.

The only way to beat the heat on a day like this is to hope that you have an air conditioned home.

Despite the heat, I did enjoy my run.

Yes, I said I enjoyed my run.

It is always an enjoyable run if I spot a bluebird.

This morning near the end of the service road that runs parallel to Westham Parkway, a bluebird briefly zoomed in front of me. Just like the blue on a blue crab, there is nothing like the blue of a bluebird.

Bluebirds are so flitty. Rarely do these pretty birds stay in one spot. Any movement causes them to quickly exit.

Once I was back home, I was fortunate to see another favorite bird the gold finch. This was my first spotting of the summer. Two of these bright yellow birds were enjoying a breakfast of coneflower seeds.

Even though the harsh, bitter cold of our 2026 winter is gone. Winter in a very small way is still hanging around our neighborhood.

On this run, there is an unusual intersection. Brookside Road and Bryn Mawr Road empty out on to Westham Parkway. There are three stop signs, one for each road.

Where those roads intersect, I find the remnants of winter.

To try to help drivers gain traction on our ice covered roads, snowplow drivers sometimes spread a mixture of salt with tiny granules of gravel and sand. As winter melted away, those particles of gravel and sand with the help of wind, rain, and car tires have worked their way down Brookside and Bryn Mawr.

The grit of winter still hanging around (Photo Bill Pike)

Unless we have a succession of cloud bursting showers, I don’t think this left over grit from winter is going to be leaving the flat area of this intersection.

I admire the grittiness of these tiny particles of sand and gravel. They have endured a harsh winter, the energy of spring, and the stubborn heat and humidity of summer.

Who knows some day, they might be washed into Westham Creek and flow into Westhampton Lake on the campus of the University of Richmond.

From there it is conceivable to flow over the spillway by the student commons heading toward the Kanawha Canal, the James River, and the Atlantic Ocean. I can only begin to imagine such a journey.

But, it is also possible that most of the gritty particles will stay put. They will not be swept away by rainwater, blown by the wind, or dispersed by the friction from car tires.

Deep in what’s left of my old brain, I compare those grains of sand and gravel to people. People who stand at the intersection of their lives.

Maybe they are trying to figure out a new direction in life.

Maybe they are worn and frazzled by the daily struggles they encounter.

Maybe they are weary from being run over by the meanness of life, the struggle to find stability and success.

Maybe they are in a vicious generational cycle full of instability and constant failures.

Maybe, they are in need of hope, grace, and mercy.

Maybe, they just need someone to reach out to them.

Someone to listen without judging.

Someone to acknowledge that despite the burdens they are carrying, these people at the intersection of life do matter, and the struggles in their lives matter.

To them hope, grace, and mercy might be just as flitty and unattainable as a streaking bluebird or gold finch.

1 Thessalonians Chapter 5 verse 11 offers these simple words of wisdom: “Therefore encourage one another and build up each other.”

At church, this past Sunday, I spent a few minutes talking with one of our older members. When I asked him how he was doing, the dedicated husband and father talked about his wife.

For many years, his wife has been impacted by the devastation of Alzheimer’s disease. Recently, her conditions took a turn for the worse.

This change necessitated a different living arrangement. His wife needed more around the clock care. He told me how much he missed having his wife with him.

In these difficult circumstances, I attempted to follow the guidance from 1 Thessalonians Chapter 5 verse 11, but I’m certain my words were way off the mark. His sadness is breaking his heart.

If you are looking for a good piece of fiction to read, I recommend The Correspondent by Virginia Evans.

The book focuses on Sybil Van Antwerp. Sybil was an accomplished attorney who uses her letter writing to try and make sense of her life and the world around her.

In a letter she wrote to Larry McMurtry, the author of Lonesome Dove, she states: “and I suppose, back then, I was reading fiction in search of assurances that there was still a reason for hope.”

Clearly, I’m not the brightest grump in this old world, but at the challenging crossroads and troublesome intersections of life isn’t that what we are searching to find—just a tiny grain of hope?

In the miserable heat and humidity of another summer in the South, might the gritty remnants of a weary winter give us a bit of hope?

And I wonder what might give that much needed hope to those trapped in the crossroads and intersections of an unstable life?

I think the answer depends how much you, me, we, us can put into action these words: “encourage one another and build up each other.”

Stone Brewery’ closure and Legend’s pivot: What’s next for Virginia craft beer?

July 9, 2026 Bill PikeLeave a comment

CHANGING THE CRAFT
Stone Brewery’s closure and Legend’s pivot: What’s next for Virginia craft beer? | Guest column
BILL PIKE
Jun 29, 2026

Thanks to Times-Dispatch reporters Sean Jones and Eric Kolenich for reporting about changes in Richmond’s craft brewing community.

Recently, stories about the closing of Stone’s brewery and a shift in the brewing process at Legend Brewery caught my attention.

I’ve never forgotten my first beer at Legend, nor will I forget my final beer at Stone.

In terms of square footage and brewing capacity, Legend and Stone are opposites. However, both breweries were part of the rapid expansion of craft breweries across Virginia and America.

During this unprecedented growth, it was hard to imagine that craft breweries would oversaturate and peak out. The changes at Stone and Legend are also being felt throughout America.

In their annual report, the Brewers Association noted that in 2025, “production declined amid softer beer sales nationwide.” Despite this decline, “craft beer outperformed the broader beer category, and craft beer market share edged higher.”

For craft brewers still in the game, this is good news. But what this truly means is that brewers will need to continue to find ways to maintain the integrity of their quality while keeping their loyal customers happy.

Speaking of happy, the closing of the Stone Brewery is not a happy one. Good, competent, and dedicated employees lost their jobs.

Signage outside the former Stone brewery after its closing (Photo Bill Pike)

In 2022, the large Japanese brewer Sapporo purchased Stone. Four years later, Sapporo decided to sell Stone.

This is the second time that Sapporo has bought an iconic American brewery. In 2017, Sapporo purchased Anchor Steam Brewing in San Francisco. Thanks to what some employees and industry experts called Sapporo’s poor management decisions, Anchor Steam was closed in July 2023.

Now, the former Stone Brewery will be brewing Sapporo’s lightweight beers. I hope Sapporo doesn’t have plans to purchase and destroy any more American breweries.

I’m glad that Legend has worked out an arrangement with another Richmond brewery, Hardywood, to keep brewing Legend’s best-selling beer, their Brown Ale. This is an excellent example of the quiet camaraderie found amongst brewers.

Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ve seen the end of changes in the craft brewing industry in Virginia or America.

The first brewers to set up shop in America also experienced success throughout the Northeast and Midwest. Those early brewers also developed loyal followers and welcoming halls for gatherings.

Today, some of those brewers like Miller, Coors, Budweiser and Yuengling are still around, but they’ve had their struggles, too.I’ve always admired the creativity and ingenuity of craft brewers. Their cleverness helped them to survive the pandemic.

I sense craft brewers are always thinking and working to figure out how to sustain, innovate and keep their loyal followers. Every week, craft brewers are not sitting still. Whether it’s a new beer, a collaboration with another brewer, providing local entertainment or offering hot trends in food, craft brewers keep pushing.

I’d like to know if that constantly pushing mentality could be used to help other businesses and organizations that are struggling. Could those inventive marketing strategies be applied to help declining churches rethink their outreach action plans?

Craft brewers have also been good at finding ways to give back a percentage of their sales by investing in good causes in their own backyards.

Might craft brewers be interested in expanding those community investments? In the art of brewing, lots of science is involved. Is there a way for the science of brewing to be applied to develop brewing apprenticeships or scholarships through our local community colleges and beyond?

In the same way, might our Richmond craft brewers be willing to create a series of beers that capture the goodness of Richmonders and their accomplishments? Could a portion of those sales be used to establish scholarships for students? Some bold Richmond brewer might develop — Michael Paul Williams Pulitzer Pilsner, Maggie Walker Penny Lager, Jonathan Austin Juggling IPA or Arthur Ashe Love 40 Saison.

Can craft brewers survive this downturn? I want to say yes.

But my yes is linked to their ability to understand how they became successful. This requires an exhaustive internal and external review of their strengths and areas for improvement. At the heart of that assessment lies their ability to pivot not only quickly, but with rational thinking.

In truth, I’m not a daily, weekly or monthly visitor to craft breweries. But when I do venture out, I love it when the people in those tasting rooms are a true cross-section of our communities.

For those special moments of diversity, I hope that our craft brewers survive.

Note from author: I was honored to have this op-ed piece published in the Richmond Times-Dispatch. The piece first appeared in the on-line edition on June 29, and it was published in print on Wednesday, July 8, 2026. The two photos included here were supplied by me. Neither appeared with the Richmond Times-Dispatch editions. Thanks, Bill Pike

“My daddy is in jail.”

July 1, 2026 Bill PikeLeave a comment

It is an honor to be with you this morning.

Doesn’t matter if you are watching on-line or here in the Sanctuary, we are happy that you joined us.

Will you join me in prayer?

Father of us all, we thank you for the privilege of worshipping this morning. Over the next few minutes, touch our hearts. Amen

I truly am honored to be with you.

When I have this opportunity to pinch-hit in the pulpit, I always offer some disclaimers.

First, I’m no expert on anything. My wife can affirm that.

Second, I’m no theologian or Biblical scholar.

And finally, while I did complete the process to become a certified lay speaker, I’m sure if leaders for the district and conference checked carefully, they might find that my credentials need renewal.

Despite those disclaimers let’s get started.

On the afternoon of Monday, June 15, I was in Trinity Hall. I was quietly putting away chairs and tables from a Saturday afternoon event.

At some point, I took a break, and checked my phone.

I saw I had a missed call. The person had left a voice mail.

That’s when I learned your pastor, Mark, was looking for a substitute, a pinch hitter for this morning.

My mind slipped back into my years in public education and as a student too. When the regular teacher was out for a day, sometimes good students took on a different persona. Depending upon their skills, often a substitute teacher could have a challenging day.

So, I accepted Mark’s invitation, and with some regret, I promise to behave.

Today is Father’s Day.

At Trinity on Father’s Day, the men have a tradition of wearing Hawaiian shirts. Years ago, one of our usher teams brought in this practice. In truth, its been fun. But for the benefit of your eyes, I opted to spare you the vision of an old guy in a flamboyant Hawaiian shirt.

In preparing for this morning, I pondered multiple scripture options related to fathers. As you know, the Bible has many stories linked to fathers.

I considered Abraham. I thought about the father of the Prodigal Son, and even Mary’s husband, Joseph.

But for some reason, I was drawn to Proverbs Chapter 4 verses 1-15. I think my pull was the multiple references to wisdom.

The movie The Shooter is too violent for me to recommend that you watch it. However, there is a memorable scene in the film about wisdom.

Two of the characters, who are in a bit of hot water, meet with an elderly man who is known for his expertise as a gunsmith.

This expert looks at his two guests and says to them, “You boys come along way, what you looking for?”

One of the guest’s replies: “wisdom.”

With no hesitation, the gunsmith responds, “You come to the wrong place.”

I’m not sure about you, but often in my attempts to deal with this crazy world of ours, I find that I need wisdom.

I wonder where do you go to get wisdom today?

Do you sit at your computer and ask AI your wisdom question?

Do you phone a friend?

In looking for your much needed wisdom, might you do some in depth research?

Or, do you still come to this Sanctuary on Sunday mornings to find the wisdom you need?

Years ago, my search for wisdom would take me to my father or to my father-in-law. Even though their growing up environments were very different, their experiences in life had made them wise. I knew these cherished men would be able to guide me.

Today, I have a very predictable wisdom routine. I start my day by reading the daily devotional in the Upper Room. That quiet time also includes a long prayer connected to my lengthy prayer list.

Yet, I can tell you— nothing else related to the day ahead of me starts until my devotion and prayer time is completed.

Somedays, I find wisdom in the words from strangers who have written those devotionals and live on the other side of the world.

Other days, the scripture reading pushes me to carefully think about the life lessons available from these verses.

Part of what drew me to our scripture reading this morning from Chapter Four of Proverbs were the references to wisdom.

Additionally, from those fifteen verses, I’m drawn to these words: listen, insight, teaching, heart, paths, and evildoers.

The author makes it clear that if you gain wisdom you also need to pickup some insight.

How many times in your life has your insight come from reliving a challenging moment through your rearview mirror? In that reflection, do you ever silently say to yourself, I wish I had responded differently?

Our lives take us down many paths. The scripture warns us that evildoers can be along the way. We are advised not to go down that path to turn away.

Despite those warnings, that wisdom, that insight, some of us fall in with the evildoers. Why is that?

In his book Somebody Told Me, author, Rick Bragg, writes about America. The book is based upon articles that he wrote as a reporter for the New York Times. Mr. Bragg won a Pulitzer Prize for his work. Included in the book are several articles related to the tragic mass shootings that have plagued America.

One of the saddest of these shootings is about Mitchell Johnson and Andrew Golden. When these two opened fire on their school, Mitchell was fourteen and Andrew eleven.

Everyone wants to know how can a fourteen year old and an eleven year old do such a thing? Where did the shooters go wrong? Did these troubled individuals go wrong because they had no wisdom, no insight, no one to guide them in their lives?

How much of that “why” is linked to these findings:

According to a report from the US Census Bureau: In 2023, nearly one in four children in America aged 0‒17 years, totaling about 19 million, were living in a household without their biological, step, or adoptive father, mostly with their mother (85% of cases). In fact, living in a single-parent households with a father absent is the second most common U.S. living arrangement, and the proportion of these households has doubled since 1970 (US Census Bureau, 2023).

That’s right, I said 19 million with no father in the household.

Let me be clear. As a retired educator, I saw how challenging parenting can be in all circumstances. I worked with many gifted single parents. Yet, I wonder how much better life might be for those 19 million children if there was a reliable, steady father in their lives.

And yes, I know that all fathers aren’t perfect.

Even when fathers are reliable, loyal, and steady in their support of their children and families, they can be challenged.

In the Bible, let’s go back for a moment and think about Abraham, and the father of the Prodigal Son, and Joseph.

To be truthful with you, I struggle with God directing Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac. Yes, I know God tests us. Thank goodness for the angel’s intervention, but I can’t begin to imagine the emotional scarring for Abraham and Isaac.

And to continue that truthfulness, I struggle with the story of the Prodigal Son. I think my struggle with this scripture is because I know there were many times in my life where I disappointed my father. I let him down.

I know there was never a moment in my life when my father let me down—his heart was too good. Perhaps, my father learned from the good heart of the father of the Prodigal Son.

And speaking of good hearts, what about Joseph?

Engaged to Mary. Out of the blue, he learns that she is expecting a child. The angel of the Lord comes to Joseph in a dream telling him to continue to stand by Mary. What trust Joseph must have had in his heart to comply and remain loyal.

When I think about Abraham, and the father of the Prodigal Son, and Joseph, I want to know who taught them to be reliable, steady, and loyal? Where did they receive this wisdom?

For thirty one years, I worked in the public schools of Virginia. Initially, teaching was at the core of my daily work. Yes, I have lots of stories swirling around my old noggin’.

But, I have never forgotten one day during lunch duty in the cafeteria at Lakeside Elementary School. I sat down with a class of second graders. They were waiting for their teacher to pick them up.

One student, who was new to our school, moved closer to me and said clearly “my daddy is in jail.”

I’ve had students confide and say lots of things to me, but that was the first time for “my daddy is in jail.”

Let’s think back to those 19 million children with no father in the home. How many of those children have a “daddy in jail?”

I think we know the answer.

According to the Sentencing Project, 2.7 million children have a parent serving time in prison or jail on any given day, and over 5.2 million have had an incarcerated parent at some point during their lives.

At this point, you might be thinking, hey Bill, can you lightened up a bit?

And the answer is yes.

Why wasn’t one Father’s Day gift better than the other? It was a tie!

Where do dads go to dance on Father’s Day? Golf clubs.

What’s a groundbreaking Father’s Day gift to give to your dad? A shovel.

That was a pitiful attempt at humor.

Maybe, you were distracted from “My daddy is in jail” for a few seconds.

Despite that brief interruption, that challenge, those 19 million children without a father aren’t going to disappear from our communities, our states, and our country.

Perhaps, you have enjoyed some of the documentaries created by American filmmaker, Ken Burns. In the editing room where Mr. Burns and his team work, there is a sign that states “It’s complicated.”

Marriage, having children, and parenthood are complicated.

It takes quite a commitment to work through the ups and downs of marriage, having children, and parenthood.

In a few days, I’ll turn seventy-three. I often wonder how my wife and I made it through raising our three children.

One constant in my reflections is our teamwork.

Our commitment to see each other through never wavered.

Yes, it was challenging, demanding, and frustrating.

But, we survived because of that teamwork.
Somewhere along the way, without us realizing it, the wisdom, the insight, the teaching, the listening from Proverbs Chapter Four was with us.

And that included those aggravating, heart wrenching moments when a wrong path or an “evildoer” interrupted the flow of life for our children.

I have no idea where that young man is today who confided in me— “my daddy is in jail.”

I hope that young man’s father was able to return to his son.

With the grace of God, I hope that wisdom, insights, listening, and teaching reconnected their lives.
And if in that journey, a wrong path or “evildoers” appeared for the father and son, I hope that the path and the “evildoers” were quickly overpowered and sent on their way by the collective bond found in wisdom, insights, listening, and teaching.

The Steep Canyon Rangers are a successful bluegrass band from Asheville, North Carolina. Through the lyrics of their songs, their songwriters convey some memorable stories.

When I think about those 19 million children, I’m reminded of a song by the Steep Canyon Rangers titled “Hard Luck Kid.”

These words spoke to my old heart:

“He was looking to me with eyes so tired, so young, saying, “Can’t you see I’m worth just as much as anyone?” Give me just one chance, a little grace, and let me in, a little grace for the hard luck kid.”

Out of those 19 million children, you, me, we, us know there are going to be some “hard luck kids” in our paths.

Kids that are “tired,” who just need a “chance,” just a little “grace.”

Proverbs Chapter 4 verse 4 states: “Let your heart hold fast my words.”

Abraham, and the father of the Prodigal Son, and Joseph had hearts that held fast to wisdom, insights, listening, teaching, and grace.

In our daily living when we encounter one of those 19 million children aren’t God and Jesus going to be counting on our hearts to hold fast to wisdom, insights, listening, teaching, and grace?

When that day confronts you, me, we, us will our hearts be ready to respond?

Benediction:
I hope you have a good Father’s Day.
I recall that all my father wanted on Father’s Day was a good nap.
I hope you have a good week too.
And, I hope our hearts will hold fast to the wisdom from Proverbs.
Now go in peace.

Note from author: On Sunday, June 21, 2026, I had the privilege of pinch hitting for the pastor at St. Andrew’s United Methodist Church in Henrico County, Virginia.

The new Steep Canyon Rangers’ album, Next Act: “we can order it for you.”

June 23, 2026 Bill PikeLeave a comment

(Photo taken of album cover by Bill Pike)

Dear Steep Canyon Rangers,

Sadly, I was not able to attend your May 28 and 29 concerts at the Sierra Nevada Brewing Company Amphitheater in Mill River, North Carolina.

I had a tiny distraction to deal with here in Richmond, Virginia. Our youngest daughter’s wedding was scheduled for Saturday, May 30.

No matter what I tried, neither my wife nor daughter could be persuaded to let me attend either show. Even though, I was just the lowly father of the bride, I guess from a distance or up close the optics didn’t look good for such an escape. Maybe next year.

Congratulations on the release of your new album—Next Act.

I’m one of those old guys who hasn’t returned to vinyl. I prefer having a CD in my hands as opposed to all that digital downloading stuff.

I made a short drive into Richmond to my usually reliable independent record store to purchase Next Act.

Sadly, they did not even have a bin divider with Steep Canyon Rangers printed on it.

In the bin labeled S, much to my dismay they did not have a copy of your new album. They did have a copy of your excellent live album—Live At Greenfield Lake. I already own a copy of this album.

I made another check through the S bin, and rechecked the latest releases section at the front of the store, but no Next Act was present. I questioned an employee about the album, and he simply said, “we can order it for you.”

The Eddie Haskel in me, or maybe that should be the Ernest T. Bass in me wanted to say: “ I can order it too, but I was trying to support your store, you know my local independent record store.”

So, I thought I would try our local Barnes and Noble. They have a small section featuring recordings.

At Barnes and Noble, a nice young lady checked to see if Next Act was in the store, and of course, it wasn’t. And she too said, “we can order it for you.” By that time, the Eddie Haskell and Ernest T. Bass had died in me—no snarky comment.

A few days later, I ordered the CD from The Steep Canyon Rangers’ website. It arrived in the US Mail on Thursday, June 11.

At our church on Friday, June 12, while setting up Trinity Hall for a Saturday evening event, I listened to Next Act.

In some of the preliminary reading I did about the album, I read that instrumentally the recording marked a return to the band’s bluegrass roots. No drum set for Mike Ashworth, and no banjo-caster for Graham Sharp on this recording.

This back to the basics has happened with other bands too.

While mostly overlooked, the Beach Boys attempted to move away from the complexities of Pet Sounds and Smile with their Wild Honey album.

The Beatles made a similar push with the Get Back sessions. This was a significant step away from the legendary Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and to some extent The White Album. However, the shelved Get Back sessions did eventually birth the magnificent Abbey Road.

For the Steep Canyon Rangers, I think Next Act is a winner. There are no clunker songs on the album. I know this because the songs from this recording stuck what’s left of my memory bank.

This album pivots off of the the band’s multiple strengths.

No doubt they are gifted players, masters of their instruments. Their playing can be fiery hot, or deftly simple and pretty.

Mandolin player and harmony singer, Mike Guggino, is an example of this. At times on these recordings, his fingers sear the fretboard of his mandolin.

I’ve always loved their harmonies. But a extra dimension is added to the band with four lead vocalist in Aaron, Graham, Barrett, and Mike. Barrett and Mike are at their best with “Some Days” and “Babylon Stone.”
I continue to be impressed with the band’s songwriters. Aaron Burdett and Graham Sharp are good storytellers. They have a gift for weaving the past and the present into their lyrics. Their stories reflect what feels like real people, real lives—people that you might encounter in any town in America. I like what I hear in the realness of these heartfelt words.

Edie Brickell and Steve Martin lend support on a couple songs. Both performers easily blend into the structure of each song. That’s not surprising considering Miss Brickell and Mr. Martin have histories with the band.

Perhaps not a first, but the Ranger’s gifted fiddle player, Nicky Sanders, puts in some nice piano playing on “Hard Luck Kid.”

Even though I miss his creative and well-timed drum work, Mike Ashworth contributes dobro, guitar, banjo, and some quiet percussion to the recording along with vocals. He is also credited in sharing production work with the group. This is a testament to his talent.

Despite my frustration in securing a copy of the album, my only other complaint is there is no photo of the band anywhere on the CD packaging. Perhaps, the record label, Yep Roc, was saving pennies.

I would like to see the Steep Canyon Rangers in concert again. I’m curious to see if Mike Ashworth will be set up behind a drum kit.

While bluegrass purists are probably dismayed about the drums being a part of the Steep Canyon Rangers, I think Mr. Ashworth’s drumming added a nice punch and texture to the band.

Hope your summer tour goes well.

Thanks for recording and releasing Next Act.

I know this was your fifteenth studio album, and I hope there are fifteen more in the future.

For my rapidly aging, non-musician ears, you gentlemen, the Steep Canyon Rangers, are required listening.

“Long may you run.”

Bill Pike
Richmond, Virginia