In the 1970's, on our way out to the West coast, we stopped for gas at one of those tourist traps.
They had an Indian there that was suppose to have a photographic memory. I walked up to him and asked him what he had for breakfast on June 12th, 1958.
He said, "eggs".
My brother had filled the tank and was ready to go so I couldn't ask him any more questions.
About 20 years later I was driving by the same place and they still had the sign out about the indian with the photographic memory.
I figured I would stop and see if he even remembered me.
I walked up to him, raised my hand and said, "HOW".
He said, "scrambled".