Hyperthymesia

The sun burned out when I was in high school.

That's what I thought, anyway. No other explanation made a lick of sense. When the sky turns absolutely pitch black in the middle of an ordinary day, it tends to make an impression on a young mind.

It was, without question, the strangest experience of my life. The sun burned out!, or so I thought. But I can't remember the most basic facts about when it happened. Not the year, not the month, not the day of the week.

Call my brother Brad if you want the details. I've asked him the date again and again, and he always nails it. And I still can't manage to remember it myself.

I blame my memory problems on Brad. His recollection of dates and details, both big and small, has always been near-perfect, so I've never felt the need to try matching the mental gymnastics that occur in his head automatically. If I need to know when Sammy Davis Jr. died, Brad can tell me. If I find myself wondering where we stayed on the third night of any given family vacation, Brad can rattle off the name of the motel.

It's still unconfirmed, from a clinical standpoint, but Brad seems to be one of very few individuals who could be described as "hyperthymestic" - possessing a superior autobiographical memory.

(By the way, the day the sky went black was Friday, February 19, 1971.)

I looked it up.