Marilyn Milos
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write something about your father. This, of course, brings up more than 40 years of memories, so many of them vivid, all of them so dear.
When I first met J. P. and your mom, Kay Ann had just started kindergarten, Cheryl Lynn was eager to follow, although it would take a year for that longing to be fulfilled, and Paul Desmond bustled around in droopy diapers, climbing in and out of his highchair, with the nipple of his milk-filled bottle clenched between his teeth. Amidst the clamor of you three kids and two of my own, your dad and Joe Edminston, my husband then, talked about banjos and music and politics. They were so intent in their discussions and discoveries that I was awed by their focus.
Your dad gave Joe banjo lessons, and they became fast friends, so I had, on very many special occasions, the opportunity and pleasure of hearing J. P. play music. Recently, as I was driving from Point Reyes Station back home to Forest Knolls, through Lagunitas where you lived when you were youngsters, I heard an ever-so familiar recording on KPFA. It was a piece your dad and David Meltzer recorded about thirty years ago. Your dad's banjo playing was unique to him, with all the delight and intensity inherent in the man, and there I was, listening, remembering, and cherishing what I knew and loved!
I especially remember a wintery weekend, when I was visiting you in Lagunitas, how J. P. came rushing through the door with a newly-released Bob Dylan album. He immediately put it on the turntable and, as we sat in front of the fire, he listened intently to every word and every note, and I am reminded as I write this about the joy he received from listening to Dylan and to so many others in the world of jazz and folk music. I hope you remember the times when J. P. and Tina and David Meltzer would get together and play. They were special times, indeed.
The first time I came into the San Geronimo Valley, where I've lived for the past 28 years, J. P. brought me. He had found a magical place where he would make a home, a place where he would raise his family. Remember how he tore out the bathroom with such plans for fixing it up, but then he rarely had time for remodelling because he was driving back and forth to his job at City Lights Book Store (Discovery Bookstore, actually) in San Francisco, an hour away, and two hours of commute time, every day. I don't remember that the bathroom ever got finished, but, I do remember that J. P. always had time to make beautiful jewelry, to sing, and to play his music for family and friends.
One of the most precious memories of all that I have was the day that Jay Hawk was born, the day that J. P. became a grandfather. Kay Ann labored inside, while outside J. P. sat, listening to the sounds of his daughter in labor and playing his banjo for her. He played for life itself, really, playing his heart out as his daughter labored. Finally, when she had given birth to that beautiful boy, when we heard Jay's first sounds, J. P. fell into my arms and wept. The depth of J. P.'s love for Kay Ann, for her newborn son, for the baby's father, for all of his children, and for his wife were more apparent then that at any other moment that I had the privilege of sharing. The depth of the man, his strength, and his character were never more profound.
J. P. was a complex man. A man who fell in love early, had babies early, and cherished his family until the end of his own life. Despite trials and hardships, the sincerity of the man never waivered. His deepest intentions, his heartfelt contributions, his magnificent love were always evident in a life lived so quickly, so intensely, and so passionately.
I have missed him since his death and I shall continue to miss him until the day that I die. Until that day, however, I shall cherish the fact that J. P. was a part of my life.
With love,
Marilyn Milos
Marilyn Milos is the founder and director of National Organization of Circumcision Information Resource Centers (NOCIRC), a genital integrity organization which opposes the genital modification of children. In the early 1960's Marilyn Milos, at the request of Lenny Bruce, transcribed his court cases for him. Marilyn Milos is a close friend of David Meltzer and MaryAnne Pickens and was a very close friend of the late Tina Meltzer and J.P. Pickens.
When I first met J. P. and your mom, Kay Ann had just started kindergarten, Cheryl Lynn was eager to follow, although it would take a year for that longing to be fulfilled, and Paul Desmond bustled around in droopy diapers, climbing in and out of his highchair, with the nipple of his milk-filled bottle clenched between his teeth. Amidst the clamor of you three kids and two of my own, your dad and Joe Edminston, my husband then, talked about banjos and music and politics. They were so intent in their discussions and discoveries that I was awed by their focus.
Your dad gave Joe banjo lessons, and they became fast friends, so I had, on very many special occasions, the opportunity and pleasure of hearing J. P. play music. Recently, as I was driving from Point Reyes Station back home to Forest Knolls, through Lagunitas where you lived when you were youngsters, I heard an ever-so familiar recording on KPFA. It was a piece your dad and David Meltzer recorded about thirty years ago. Your dad's banjo playing was unique to him, with all the delight and intensity inherent in the man, and there I was, listening, remembering, and cherishing what I knew and loved!
I especially remember a wintery weekend, when I was visiting you in Lagunitas, how J. P. came rushing through the door with a newly-released Bob Dylan album. He immediately put it on the turntable and, as we sat in front of the fire, he listened intently to every word and every note, and I am reminded as I write this about the joy he received from listening to Dylan and to so many others in the world of jazz and folk music. I hope you remember the times when J. P. and Tina and David Meltzer would get together and play. They were special times, indeed.
The first time I came into the San Geronimo Valley, where I've lived for the past 28 years, J. P. brought me. He had found a magical place where he would make a home, a place where he would raise his family. Remember how he tore out the bathroom with such plans for fixing it up, but then he rarely had time for remodelling because he was driving back and forth to his job at City Lights Book Store (Discovery Bookstore, actually) in San Francisco, an hour away, and two hours of commute time, every day. I don't remember that the bathroom ever got finished, but, I do remember that J. P. always had time to make beautiful jewelry, to sing, and to play his music for family and friends.
One of the most precious memories of all that I have was the day that Jay Hawk was born, the day that J. P. became a grandfather. Kay Ann labored inside, while outside J. P. sat, listening to the sounds of his daughter in labor and playing his banjo for her. He played for life itself, really, playing his heart out as his daughter labored. Finally, when she had given birth to that beautiful boy, when we heard Jay's first sounds, J. P. fell into my arms and wept. The depth of J. P.'s love for Kay Ann, for her newborn son, for the baby's father, for all of his children, and for his wife were more apparent then that at any other moment that I had the privilege of sharing. The depth of the man, his strength, and his character were never more profound.
J. P. was a complex man. A man who fell in love early, had babies early, and cherished his family until the end of his own life. Despite trials and hardships, the sincerity of the man never waivered. His deepest intentions, his heartfelt contributions, his magnificent love were always evident in a life lived so quickly, so intensely, and so passionately.
I have missed him since his death and I shall continue to miss him until the day that I die. Until that day, however, I shall cherish the fact that J. P. was a part of my life.
With love,
Marilyn Milos
Marilyn Milos is the founder and director of National Organization of Circumcision Information Resource Centers (NOCIRC), a genital integrity organization which opposes the genital modification of children. In the early 1960's Marilyn Milos, at the request of Lenny Bruce, transcribed his court cases for him. Marilyn Milos is a close friend of David Meltzer and MaryAnne Pickens and was a very close friend of the late Tina Meltzer and J.P. Pickens.
