ward r jones's Page

A review of a Simon & Schuster novel reminded me of who's to blame for this description of men: "They're infantile, unfaithful, invariably awful in bed. One woman describes a sexual encounter feeling more accidental than anything else, 'like hitting a patch of black ice, he slid into me and then it was over.'" A self branded cliche by all those never-read-a-novel men, who instead watch Fox, NASCAR, the wording of their hunting lease. Who…

Continue

http://www.wardrjones.com/2011/07/lets-face-it-writing-is-hell-william-styron/

You may not know that Los Angeles has a metropolitan area of 15 million, but after being there for a few days, visiting our son who works for a CBS talk show, I’ve seen this sea of people, some as far as the horizon. At a beachfront restaurant in Santa Monica they swam by us to a pier with a giant Ferris wheel illuminated with splinters of neon light, a kaleidoscope of color beneath the evening sky. The air cool, crisp, the beach wide, stretching for miles to distant mountains. No wonder people… Continue

Or so I thought this morning. At the kitchen's island counter where my tin of French honey is each morning, they had, this line of ants, invaded it. Streaming up, two or three abreast, from floor to corner, from corner to counter top,  counter top to tin, where the most intrepid of these crawlers had gotten beneath the lid, felt their way down, a good number drowning in the golden pool I dip my spoon in each morning. On this one to shovel them out with the tip, a dozen or more. All delaying…

Continue