Jack Reacher, as many of you will know (not that I know that many), is the hero of Lee Child's thriller mystery novels. Reacher is six foot five and upwards of 250 pounds and he does not carry a gun. I won't go into more detail but the reason I am writing about him is that he has taught me to get to sleep faster. When he lies down, even after a strenuous or dangerous day, he takes three breaths and falls asleep. Oh, and he can set his head and wake at the time he specifies.

In one yoga class I went to, the guide instructed us to take a deep breath and fill our bellies, then, letting out that breath, take another and direct the air up to the chest. Then sigh as you let the air out. That's what I do now when I lie down, and think of Jack Reacher. Works like a charm. I have always been able to set my head although if I have to catch a plane, I don't trust myself. I might as well, because I can't handle an alarm clock. I take a brief nap every day, set the timer for half an hour, go into a deep REM sleep and wake one or two minutes before the timer buzzes. I have a terrible sense of direction but an exquisite sense of time. My line is that I lost my map when I was born but I swallowed a clock.

Me and Jack Reacher.

Of course, at my age I go to more funerals and memorial services than weddings, bar mitzvahs or baby showers. Last night's memorial gathering was more like a joyous wake than a funereal assembly, except we didn't drink as much as I understand they do at wakes. Still, we did all right as we toasted the friend, mentor, guide and governess of the people present, a disparate group whose common denominator was our variegated profession (writing) and our devotion and gratitude to the departed one.

Talk about memory lane! The older we get the more surprising flashes of memory we get, surprising and often unwelcome, at least uncalled for. But in the case of this trip it was all focused on one person and our concomitant revelations. The experience actually gave me a clue as to another way of harnessing memory, and directing it.

Does anyone remember Eric Berne? (1010-1970) He was famous as the creator of transactional analysis (TA), very popular in the 1950s, and his book, Games People Play (1964), was a best-seller. I was a big fan; his theory helped me get along with my mother. I've used one of his games as a guide to character analysis and dialogue in my play-writing. People play "yes, but..." when you try to suggest solutions to their problems, rebutting all your ideas with their objections. It makes for escalating dialogue. Most of the games he describes are destructive but there are a few benign ones. "Cavalier" is one of them, for men, the female counterpart being "Blarney." My mother, for all her sins, was really good at Blarney and I admired her for it. Her granddaughters were entranced.

I found Berne's book to be a useful trigger to focused memory, and that's why I mention it now. I'd forgotten about it and was pleased to find it in my Seedbed shelf. My copy was in the 15th printing and it cost $5.95. (Wow!) It's still a useful, entertaining book. I'm going to re-read it. I'm writing a book about aging and I need all the memories I can get.