My computer cheats at Backgammon.

Let’s all ponder that for a moment.

Pathetic, eh? But is it pathetic because I like to play Backgammon on my computer, whereas I could be conquering fantastical creatures in World of Warcraft? Or is it pathetic because I think my computer hates me so much that it would rob me of the little joys I get from bringing all of my chequers home?

I hope it is not the latter, because I would appear even more pathetic when you co

nsider that I believe my computer feels satisfaction from winning.

But I would counter that it is my computer that is pathetic, because it is deriving satisfaction from cheating. I mean, c’mon, it is the computer that rolls the dice … it purposely gave itself double fours to land perfectly on two of my exposed chequers and leave itself protected both times.

And how can one person roll the dice eight times in a row and not get a “one” to re-enter the board. Give … me … a break!

(Wow … this rabbit hole just keeps getting deeper.)

No, no. The really pathetic thing about all of this is that my computer would willingly cheat even though I treat it so well.

I run it with Linux and not Windows, I have a surge protector so that it doesn’t get zapped and I even have two hard drives so that it doesn’t have to remember everything.

I accept all of the suggested updates, I upgrade whenever one is released (OK, OK, we’d rather forget about 9.04, it was a Beta and I should have known better) and I don’t use those undignified themes that make the pointer look like a bumble bee.

I’m just saying, this animosity my computer feels toward me is unwarranted.

But it is more pathetic than even that. I think life, in general, is out to get me.

My son and I like to play golf at Annie Lake, and on the fifth hole, I keep hitting “that tree” (I don’t even have to explain which one, anyone who has played Annie Lake knows “that tree on the fifth hole”). I’m always impressed when I can lift the ball high enough, and far enough, to clear those bushes … but the ball just wafts into “that tree”.

What are the chances of that happening over and over again? Probably the same as not rolling a “one” eight turns in a row.

Then, just last night, on the 15th hole — that big open field which makes it impossible to lose a ball in — I lost a ball. It was my best hit all night; it was long and straight; the ball sailed into the air and arced beautifully to land just in front of the green (are they called “greens” at Annie Lake?) with enough room for one or two bounces … except there were no bounces.

Gopher hole!

Computers and Mother Nature … both out to get me.

Now, that, is pathetic.