The Road Not Taken

A practical application of the Robert Frost Poem, “The Road Not Taken” with a few religious under tones for contrast, satire and entertainment value...

Bar Talk and Nothing Else

The Business man and the Tree Hugger walked into a Irish bar one day for a nostalgic meeting.  As they entered the bar they noticed off in a secluded corner a priest, a rabbi and a minister deep in animated discussion thick with theo-babble and rhetoric. 

The Business Man and the Tree Hugger were old friends from college days.  Their lives had “diverged in the woods” so to speak, an ironic twist thought the Tree Hugger.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Now, the Tree Hugger reflected they really had nothing in common.  This meeting was all about respect for the past and remembrances. They had agreed to a “friendly” drink to catch up.  One dressed in a suit the other clad in denim cloth.  

“Yes, I’m remarried to the love of my life that Bitch took me for over 6.2 mil, lucky I’m even wearing this designer suit worth three grand.”

The Business man was also a numbers man.

But fortunately I can write off my losses and her as well.  She served her purpose.  Mistresses are far more cost effective, but it is what it is.  Hey cheers!”

Their glasses clinked.

“So what have you been doing with your life?”

no pause

“You know the government is sniffing around my off-shore accounts.  I mean how fair is that, like I should pay tax on profits I make outside of the country.  Who are they kidding?  I  earned that money fair and square now some cockroach of a government bureaucrat would gladly suck me dry. 

“”Like your ex?”  I got in about my two cents worth.

“Exactly,  I mean what are Cayman and Swiss accounts good for if not to avoid these creeps and their taxes.  Am I right or am I right?”

A jovial slap on the back.

“Not only that the city has me paying 50 grand for some suck-ass public art for our corporate office downtown.  Hell if I wanted to support the arts I’d become an artist and stay poor like you.  So how you been good buddy?”

No pause...

“You know God-damn that stock market.  I pissed away 100 large ones  on the Tokyo Market just while I was sleeping last night.  How’s that for a nightmare.  And now some radical environmental group is protesting my innovative clear cutting, hydro mining, pipe laying policies down in the Amazon.  I mean what’s with these God damn tree huggers anyway?  They just stand there with their finger up their ass in the way of progress. Don’t even get me started on all the charities standing there with their hands out looking for a slice of the pie.  Its pathetic. Doesn’t anyone work for a living any more?”

Thankfully a bar fight irrupted in the back corner something over liturgy, circumcision and divine prophecy.  The rabbi, the priest and the minister were really getting agitated over semantic and liturgical differences of opinion..

“Look at those bozos, not even an Imam between them and they still can’t agree on anything.  I mean what is this world coming too?  Religion will be the death of us all.  You just mark my words on that one.  If ever there was a destructive force religion would be it.”

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

As the semantic, religious misunderstanding escalated in the rear of the bar the Tree Hugger wisely and prudently took the opportunity, during the distraction, to leave organized religion and big business to sort out their messes.  He had enough on his plate with saving the environment...and so it goes.

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.