 Yeah, my father's museum had this big, huge Hopi bowl full of sand right outside the door and said, no smoking. People would drive up from Phoenix, get out of the car, and we'd watch them from our hiding place. And they would come out, light a cigar or a cigarette, walk five feet and go, well, hell, and have to stick it out. They would go inside and we'd scamper up, grab the cigarette before it was put out and...