In jaunty rhyme, Freud’s couch confesses cocaine habits, dream decoding, and humanity’s quarrel between id and superego—suggesting beneath our polished manners lurks a bargaining child with complicated desires.
In a mischievous tour of dopamine, nicotine, and romance, Jaron Summers dissects how humans become habit-forming to one another. Blending neuroscience with Alberta marital timing, he reveals the mechanics of emotional addiction—and argues it’s far nobler to be oxygen than a cigarette.
jaron
|
February 28, 2026
After hearing Charlie Munger’s advice about avoiding the place you’ll die, a wealthy widower hires experts to calculate his fatal coordinates. In dodging death, he nearly avoids living—until he discovers the safest place to die is wherever he finally finds peace.
jaron
|
February 27, 2026
In his private journal, an absurdly earnest sex therapist reveals “The Neptune Surge,” a comic strategy for boosting male confidence through strategic breathing. A satire on ego, applause, and marital choreography, it suggests love sometimes begins with well-timed oxygen.
jaron
|
February 27, 2026
By brewing coffee at home instead of buying daily Starbucks lattes, I heroically save thousands per year, protect our financial sovereignty, and transform each humble 22-cent cup into a steaming monument to compound interest and marital devotion.
jaron
|
February 26, 2026
After mishearing his pastor’s advice, a 101-year-old tycoon concludes that eternal life depends on shoe reinforcement. Titanium soles, flattened hills, and cautious concubines follow. Unfortunately, death is unimpressed by traction — and deeply sensitive to vowels.
jaron
|
February 25, 2026
I woke to a breeze slipping through our tiny condo a few miles from UCLA and watched my Post-it notes lift off like a coordinated air force. They rose from the desk in disciplined formation — grocery lists, reminders, fragments of dialogue, one ambitious note that simply said “EMPIRE?” — and drifted across the […]
jaron
|
February 24, 2026
When a tremor disrupts a BYU preparedness class, an overcautious accountant and a quick-acting Californian collide. As they navigate rivalry, faith, and attraction, they learn that some foundations shift quietly—and some risks are worth taking.
jaron
|
February 23, 2026
Jaron Summers has written novels, screenplays, essays, and at least one extremely valuable grocery list.
He believes in ownership, rhythm, and reading contracts slowly.
More at jaronsummers.com.
jaron
|
February 23, 2026
Written by jaron summers © 2026 When I was younger, I believed in conquest. Not the sword-and-sandal variety. More the tidy American kind. Conquer the market. Conquer the critics. Conquer obscurity. Conquer cholesterol. Conquer time. Time, especially. If you could just outrun it, outwork it, outwrite it — you could win. Then one day, […]
jaron
|
February 21, 2026
When a modern dentist calls it “old work,” memory opens wide. A craftsman’s sweat, a father’s silence, and a generation that believed in pressure and permanence return. Sometimes what lasts longest isn’t the filling—but the glow it leaves behind.
Bridge to the next piece:
In the next essay, I look more closely at what my father’s generation packed tightly away—and what happens when the capsules finally open.
jaron
|
February 19, 2026
The Idaho Zone W…ritten by jaron summers © 2026 At 103, she eats one pound of hamburger a day. Six potatoes. Eggs. Unpasteurized milk. Butter applied with agricultural authority. Meanwhile, I require a spreadsheet to approach a muffin. The internet insists longevity lives in Sardinia, Okinawa, and somewhere near a Greek olive tree that charges […]
jaron
|
February 19, 2026
In a town obsessed with straight lines, one quiet medical curve humbles millions—approximately 43,000,000.5 of them. A darkly comic fable about pride, aging, carrots with opinions, and the awkward discovery that geometry eventually negotiates with us all.
jaron
|
February 16, 2026
W…ritten by jaron summers © 2026 I used to think great films required great budgets. Studios. Sound stages. Lighting grids. A small army of people arguing over coffee while someone quietly adjusts a lens by half a millimeter. I loved that machinery. The drama behind the drama. Then one morning the Chinese released a fifteen-second […]
jaron
|
February 16, 2026
We measure life in miles, mortgages, and business-class beds — but the only number that really counts is the space between two chairs. Civilization isn’t GDP. It’s passing the soy sauce without standing up.
jaron
|
February 15, 2026
An email declares my life “PERMANENTLY INCINERATED,” so I check my fingers—since Gmail needs a fingerprint. The dark web hasn’t stolen anything but attention. I delete it, and Kate asks if I’m done panicking yet.
jaron
|
February 14, 2026
A missing two-dollar pen leads to surveillance reviews, economic math, municipal overreaction, a $4.7 trillion Great Wall, and drones. Conclusion: most crises are migrations, not invasions — especially when the empire in question is my wife, Kate’s purse.
A wild bipartisan experiment pairs voters from opposite parties to live in each other’s homes, snoop for clues, sing songs, and hug it out—proving democracy might just be saved with casseroles and karaoke.
W…ritten by jaron summers © 2026 When I, at the age of seven, arrived in Coronation strange things began happening to me. This was unfortunate, as I was not prepared for them and had not been consulted. I knew no one. I missed my friends in Victoria, British Columbia. I longed for the Pacific Ocean, […]
A cheerful reckoning of light and death: how candles taxed curiosity, electricity cheapened killing, and modern comfort spends pennies to see everything while measuring nothing—with a wink and ledger.
meet Elara: Newton’s silent counterweight, a mind no one had ever heard of until now, who outthought him by seeming harmless—questioning gold, immortality, and solvents, and proving that wisdom sometimes wins by thinking like something too innocent to fear.
Raised between penicillin and the Pill, a man with aching knees encounters modern medicine, then accidentally cures himself with a gel heel cup—proving that progress is impressive, but sometimes wildly overdressed.
A floating farce about rich people who believe international waters suspend consequences. One napkin map, one yacht, and a series of polite disasters reveal that responsibility sinks slower than money—and dignity sinks first.
Two lovers. An L.A. dream condo. Fraud, lust, leverage—and fire as the only honest exit.
At a marina bar, a smug explainer redraws America and Canada on a napkin, declares borders imaginary, laws optional, and vibes sovereign. Cocktails sweat, tempers flare, a yacht launches, and the soggy napkin proves geopolitics dissolves fastest in alcohol first.
Misdirection is my confession: I don’t hide thieves; I hide reality, letting confidence sprint headfirst into a fire hydrant, where criminal ambition meets municipal iron, physics, and the sudden moral clarity of pavement—forever laughing.
A darkly funny, heart-warming family tale about survival, scarcity, and inherited wisdom—spanning two world wars to modern kitchens—where love is rationed, humor endures, and one family learns that sometimes the secret to happiness is simply knowing where to point.
I added a beard and lost my senior-citizen privileges. Once escorted to seats, I’m now judged for keeping them. A crow beside me went unnoticed. Apparently, wisdom grows faster than feathers.
A satirical sci-fi comedy in which a writer interviews at a toy conglomerate that turns human quirks into dolls—only to discover the ultimate product is him. Brazil meets Barbie, skewering empathy, capitalism, and identity with dark humor.
jaron
|
December 28, 2025
A small-town dentist mixes dental fillings in his sweaty palms, downs Crown Royal like water, teaches his son ancient goldsmithing secrets, and pulls his own tooth to prove pain is forgettable—then makes one final, unforgettable exit.
jaron
|
December 16, 2025
Patterns of Life and Death w…ritten by Jaron Summers © 2025 There was a time when humans survived without cell phones. This is not because they were more virtuous or better informed. It is because their brains worked faster than explanation. A person alone in a jungle before cell phones did not possess […]
jaron
|
December 14, 2025
Writers, of course, prefer certainty. They like rules. They like checklists. Syd Field offered a life raft. Howard Suber offered an ocean and said, “Swim.”
