It doesn't matter what anyone says; I didn't name my son after flamboyant Austrian celebrity chef Wolfgang Puck. I didn't even go to his restaurant here in Melbourne when it was open. In the 90s sometime. I was just a kid! What was it called again? Wolfgang Puck Cafe. Creative name for a place really. Failing references to a fusion-food sellout, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is often mentioned. Classical music is a subject I haven't touched since I sold my violin and bought an electric guitar instead. We just thought Wolf would be a really cool name for a boy. Did I say we? Perhaps it was just me. Maybe I don't remember ever consulting my partner about what he thought would be a nice name for a boy. Apparently it is Old German and means 'travelling wolf'. Ich spreche nur ein bischen Deutsch.
My highly intelligent reggae-loving, pot-smoking, beer-binging neighbor in the apartment below ours suggested that I had chosen the name because I wanted my son to become some sort of pack trawling tough. It's the combination of 'Wolf' and 'Gang', he said, giggling at his own cleverness as he took a toke. Ah, the world viewed through the eyes of a simple mind.
In other Wolfgang related paraphenalia, awesome French alternative rock band Phoenix released their album 'Wolfgang Amadeus Pheonix' while I was pregnant. Serendipitous? I love that band. Their bright and cheerful style carried me through those heavy, belly-stretching days. Now I dance around the apartment with my little Wolf-cub to our favorite song '1901'. Does it count as intelligence expanding music if the album is named after a famous classical musician?