Always someone bigger and better

I used to think that I was a relatively well-traveled person, especially for my age. I’ve been… I used to think that I was a relatively well-traveled person, especially for my age. I’ve been all around the country and to other parts of the world, meeting interesting people and tasting exotic kinds of food. I’ve flown, driven and floated and have slept in hotels, motels, vans, tents and – just once – an RV. I used to think that that was pretty good for a guy still a month shy of his 20th birthday. That was before I learned about one very special baby.

Jean Baptiste Charbonneau, who was rudely given the nickname “Pomp,” was born on February 12th, 1805. He was the son of Sacagawea, the Shoshone Native American who lead Meriwether Louis and William Clark on their journey though the previously unknown area of the Louisiana Purchase. His father was the French-Canadian translator for the trip, Toussaint Charbonneau. He was born during the expedition and was still out on the range for his first birthday. To me, that’s pretty impressive.

To really understand how amazing this is, it’s important to put the situation in perspective. No Westerners had ever completely gone through the area, including the French, who had owned it before Napoleon Bonaparte decided that he was desperate enough to hand it over to us for much less than the market value. A baby being born there in 1805 is the equivalent of one being born on Neptune today. I could have said Uranus or made some bad joke about holes in spacesuits, but this is a classy column. Tune in next week for some old-fashioned bathroom humor.

But, let’s get back to my point. Pomp saw more in his first year that most people back then did over their entire lives. He got to participate in what would become one of the most famous and most important American expeditions in history. He got to see the big skies of Montana, the plains of Oklahoma, the woodlands of Missouri and, well, whatever there is to see in Wyoming. And he did all of this before he could even think about eating solid food.

Despite being out in the wilderness, he really didn’t have it too rough. While the other people were hiking and climbing, he was chilling in a sack on his mom’s back, relaxing and taking in the scenery. While most kids his age were spitting up on their parents and learning how to burp, Pomp was, well, doing the same thing – but at least he was doing it in a really cool place.

More than anything, I’d have to guess that he impaired the progress of the expedition, figuring in all the times they would have to stop to feed him or when he’d cry out just as they were about to pounce on whatever dinner they were hunting. And just for being there, not only did he snatch a spot on his mom’s shiny dollar coin – by the way, that’s him on her back – but he also got material for what must have been one of the best college application essays of all time.

Admissions Office Guy: “Well Suzie’s spent a summer building houses and Frankie wrote about the time he totaled his car.”

Admissions Office Gal: “Wait a second – this Jean kid was one of the first people to explore piece of land that doubled the size of the United States!”

Admissions Office Guy: “Not bad, but what about his boards?”

Now, I know what you are saying to yourself.

“This is great and all, but why do I care about some baby with an awful nickname? And, wow, this columnist looks really cute in his picture.”

Well, I’ll explain – and thanks for the compliment. Like I said in the beginning, I used to think I was well-traveled, until I stumbled across a little guy named Pomp. The lesson underneath all of this is that you may be pretty great, but someone is always better.

I don’t mean to say that you should just give up and stop striving to be the best you can be. I’m on the other side of the spectrum – there’s always somebody above you, so you should never stop trying or be content with your position. This goes for more than just traveling; it applies for just about anything you do.

I’m sure that’s what everyone was thinking about last Sunday when Pomp’s 201st birthday was celebrated by people all over the country – and by that I mean various parts of Montana. So keep pushing, never give up, and never be satisfied. Maybe one day you too can get your face on a coin.

E-mail Sam at Seg23@pitt.edu with any funny jokes involving the word “Uranus.”