“Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions drown out your own inner voice.”
— Steve Jobs, (1955–2011) American businessman, inventor, and investor best known for co-founding Apple Inc.
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They were sitting on a park bench at Veteran’s Plaza. The little guy and the old man.
I saw them when I paused there during an after-work stroll. The park was a great place in Boerne to enjoy the beauty and cooler days of a Texas Hill Country fall, walk for exercise, or just sit and contemplate life when I published the newspaper there. Thirty-plus years ago.
They were not far away. Close enough that I saw a young face staring at the fountain. Dejection written all over it.
“Like to watch water,” I heard the old timer quizz him. Getting no response, he followed with, “Dogs been barkin’ at you again?”
“I don’t hear any dogs,” the youngster said softly as they both looked straight ahead.
The old man chuckled. “I’m talkin’ about them two-legged kind. People that give you a hard time, try to tear you down just to make themselves look better. They’re just like ol’ barkin’ dogs.” Pausing for a moment, he continued, “I like to watch water when I’ve got something on my mind. Did you ever watch fish in a fishbowl? Now that’s really relaxin’ when somethin’s eatin’ at you.”
“I had a fish one time,” the boy spoke up. “It died.”
“They’ll do that,” the old fellow said sympathetically.
“My friend made fun of me,” the little guy suddenly opened up. As if there were some connection between friends and fish.
“You know, that’s something else I’ve never understood,” the weathered old gent said. “People we considered our friends who do that. Let’s see if we can figure it out together.”
The youngster related a story about an honor he’d earned. About how the teacher recognized his achievement, praising him before his classmates. “Most of my friends were happy for me, but my best friend made fun of me,” the boy said. “Asked me if I thought I was smarter than him or something. Said the teacher was dumb for bragging on me.”
The old man was silent a moment, then offered, “Those people like barkin’ dogs I was telling you about. Ever tried to figure out why they’re makin’ so much racket? Dogs, they bark at cars, other dogs, people, at bugs or sticks. It’s just what dogs do. Just barkin’ to hear their brains rattle. But you ever wonder what people are barkin’ at when they say hurtful things about good people?”
The boy took his eyes off the flowing water and looked up at the man. “No. What are they barking at?”
“Let me tell you a story my father told me,” the man said. “He loved the circus when he was your age. The circus traveled by wagons back then, and when they rolled into town, it was a parade. Everybody came to see the animals, the clowns, the brightly covered wagons. Lot’s of excitement when the circus came to town.
“And the dogs,” said the old fellow. “They just barked at the wagon wheels, the horse’s hooves, dust from the wagon wheels. Causin’ havoc; distractin’ lookers from the joy of the parade. But when the parade rolled on; when it ended, everybody left. Forgot about the dogs, and they just went and found a shady resting spot.
“Barkin’ people? They’re worse than barkin’ dogs. Just selfish; afraid somebody’s thinkin’ you’re smarter ‘n they are. All they know to do is distract with a ruckus; tear somebody down to make them look better. Pure and simple,” the old sage said, “They just like the sound of their own bark.
“But you know what,” the man asked?
“What,” said the boy.
“Just like those dogs at the circus parade. When they’re done making useless noise, life goes right on without ’em,” and they’re quickly forgotten.”
The youngster, still looking up at him, asked “So, are you saying I should just ignore my friend?”
“Just like you ignore barkin’ dogs,” the old man responded. “Ignore people with nothin’ better to do than criticize and complain. Don’t let their useless noise steal your dreams or your joy.”
“O.K.,” the boy smiled. “Well, I’ve got to go home for supper now.”
The youngster walked north toward town, and the old man ambled slowly across the street toward the Catholic Church.
I think about the elderly gentleman’s advice often. Every time I hear someone bark, “That won’t work.” Or, “You’re wasting your time.” Worst of all, “You can’t do that!”
Just barkin’ dogs, jealous of someone else’s ambition and success.
That’s when I think about the old guy in Boerne years ago. And my hope that his advice remained with the young man.
It did with me. I wish that old gentleman knew that, and how many times I’ve shared his story.
—Leon Aldridge
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Aldridge columns are featured in these publications: The Center Light and Champion, the Mount Pleasant Tribune, the Rosenberg Fort Bend Herald, the Taylor Press, the Alpine Avalanche, the Fort Stockton Pioneer, the Elgin Courier, The Monitor in Naples, and Motor Sports Magazine.
© Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling 2024. Excerpts and links may be used, provided full and clear credit is given to Leon Aldridge and ‘A Story Worth Telling’ with appropriate and specific directions to the original content.
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