Well, this ended up being disappointing.
When Cameron and I were in Austin, we visited Haute for facials. We know Haute from their location in Casa Amatller, but learned they also have locations in Mexico City and Austin. Since we were visiting, and learned of this spot, it seemed like a great excuse to escape the Texas sun.
As per usual, it was amazing. And I was treated to a facial from the founder, from Barcelona. As we were talking in my broken castellano and her broken English, she told me she assumed I was Catalan since I was visiting from Barcelona, and my last name sounded Catalan. Petsolt? Catalan. No, Polish, and honestly, entirely made up. But she brought it up again and again, and before I left, told me, in English, “Petsolt, it’s a Catalan name.” I mean. That is amazing. Not true, but if I could slide into a Catalan-sounding name, I would love that!
I told my family; they smiled and thought it was kinda cool. And that was that. But I wanted to dig in more.
So, as I was walking to meet my family for lunch, I decided to do a little research on my phone. I know, walking and Clauding at the same time isn’t a great idea, but it is what it is. I learned that “lt” is a common Catalan ending, so it did sound Catalan. Good so far. But then Claude snickered at me a little. It told me my name was made up of two Catalan words: “pet” and “solt”. I wondered what they were. Something cool? Mysterious? Bold? Traditional? Well, this is where it all fell apart.
Pet in Catalan means “fart.”
Solt in Catalan means “loose.”
Yep, my last name is apparently “Loose Fart.” I was devastated. I immediately opened Google Translate to confirm. And it was confirmed.
I shared the story with my family, including two sisters, my wife, who had taken my last name (we will see if that lasts), and my niece. We all identified as Petsolt. But good God, did we laugh about it! Everyone pulled out their phones to see what they could learn.
One translation had solt meaning “intentional,” which I do like better because it implies that the fart is a decision and not a consequence. It gave me back ownership and empowerment. A clear improvement. Then someone found that our name translated to “drenched,” which, as long as it isn’t related to the other translations, isn’t bad. I can live with a last name of Drenched.
But then I started thinking of all our Catalan friends, and the woman who said Petsolt was Catalan. I realized none of them had said anything, or even looked awkward when learning my name. So that means that maybe it doesn’t really mean what I was told. That, or Catalans are the most polite people on the planet.
Either way, I will continue to pursue the answer and may, in the end, either be a proud Petsolt living in Barcelona, or have to change my last name entirely to something bold and mysterious. Or wait, maybe that’s exactly what it is now.
Update
Later, with a laptop and a dictionary, I checked. It turns out “intentional” isn’t in there. Neither is “drenched.” Hmmm… The family was being kind, I guess. But as it turns out, we might not be in as bad shape as I thought.
Pet also means “a sharp crack, a bang,” and solt also means “free, at large, off the leash.” Put those together, and a Petsolt is a “loose cannon.” I’ll take it.
- Pet (crack, bang) + solt (free, at large): a Loose Cannon.
- Pet (drunk) + solt (at large): drunk and off the leash. Not the one I’d lead with, but I’ve been called worse.
- Pet (burst, a lot of) + solt (fluent, ready): a fluent volley. Quick-tongued.
- De pet + anar solt: straight away, off the leash. A flâneur.
I’ve always wanted to be a flâneur. This is getting better.