An agitated patient was stomping around the psychiatrist's
office, running his hands through his hair, almost in tears.
"Doctor, my memory's gone. Gone! I can't remember my
wife's name. Can't remember my children's names. Can't
remember what kind of car I drive. Can't remember where I
work. It was all I could do to find my way here."
"Calm down. How long have you been like this?"
"Like what?"
*********************************************************************
"Big Chief Forget-me Not"
An Australian travel writer touring Canada was checking out
of the Spokane Hilton, and as he paid his bill said to the
manager, asked, "By the way, what's with the Indian chief
sitting in the lobby? He's been there ever since I arrived."
"Oh that's 'Big Chief Forget-me Not'," said the manager. "The
hotel is built on an Indian reservation, and part of the
agreement is to allow the chief free use of the premises for
the rest of his life. He is known as 'Big Chief Forget-me Not'
because of his phenomenal memory. He is 92 and can
remember the slightest detail of his life."
The travel writer took this in, and as he was waiting for his
cab decided to put the chief's memory to the test.
"'ello, mate!" said the Aussie, receiving only a slight nod in
return. "What did you have for breakfast on your 21st birthday?"
"Eggs," was the chief's instant reply, without even looking up,
and indeed the Aussie was impressed.
He went off on his travel writing itinerary, right across to the
east coast and back, telling others others of Big Chief Forget-
me Not's great memory. (One local noted to him that 'How'
was a more appropriate greeting for an Indian chief than ''ello
mate.') On his return to the Spokane Hilton six months later,
he was surprised to see 'Big Chief Forget-me Not' still sitting in
the lobby, fully occupied with whittling away on a stick.
"How?" said the Aussie.
"Scrambled," said the Chief.