So I'm just sitting here at the dinner table, trying to figure out how I'm going to write a column on this new Toshiba laptop my son-in-law just hooked up for me, and I'm sweating bullets.

I'm not sure how long it's going to take me to write this puff piece, but I can tell you that on my trusty old Dell desktop I would be wrapping this thing up right about now.

OK, so I'm not a computer expert. One thing's for sure, I'm not going to have to learn to speak in a foreign dialect because nobody is going to be calling me for instructions on how to get the cellophane wrapping off their new laptop.

The first problem is this keyboard. It's flat, and I'm used to an incline. My fingers just aren't coming down in the right places. So if you come to a word that doesn't make sense, just skip it. I'd like to correct it, but I haven't got that far in the instruction manual yet.

I'm a little embarrassed by my ineptness. My 5-year-old granddaughter is sitting just across the table from me knocking out an application letter to some Ivy League college, and I'm still wondering where the space bar is on this thing.

One thing I admit up front. My son-in-law is a lot smarter than I am. I thought that the more I typed on this thing, the easier it would become. Oh yeah? Trying to keep from hitting the wrong key on this thing is like trying to get rid of a case of the shanks. The more you think about it the harder it is to keep from doing it.

I've got a golfing buddy named Harvey who gets the shanks every once in a while. Terrible thing is, ol' Harv can really play the game, but he'll be cruising along about 1 under par and suddenly an iron shot will fly off at a right angle.

"Just hit another Harvey," he'll say. And the amazing thing about this guy, he can take that same iron on the next hole and stiff it to the pin. Me, I'd have to banish that club to the storage room for a month before having the nerve to try to hit it again.

Hey, man, maybe I'm beginning to get the hang of this thing. I just typed a whole word without having to omigosh, what just happened?

The screen has gone totally blank. I kid you not, it's midnight here. Now what do I do? The son-in-law has gone home. Panic. Call the BW. Cuss. Scream. Yell louder for the BW. Where is that woman?

Aw, blessed relief as the Beautiful Wife shows up. The woman is a genius. Too bad I had to interrupt her from fixing the leak in the bathroom sink. Oh well, she can get back to that after she gets this dang laptop screen to light up again.

One thing I've learned from the old trial-and-error method is to always make dang sure you marry someone smarter than you are. If you don't you're going to have a lot of stuff go wrong that you probably won't know how to fix.

Hey, she did it. Just plugged a cord into the wall socket and that took care of the problem. I was wondering what that thing was for. Oh, you mean batteries die?

All right, the BW has plugged the Toshiba in and gone back to her plumbing duties. You gotta love that woman. She's been working on that drain leak for hours. Ever since she finished painting the patio fence. But she still needs some training. She could have at least brought me a glass of sweet tea while she was in the room.

OK, I have no idea how to get a word count on this thing yet, so I'm in uncharted waters here. But this is supposed to be a golf column, so I guess I'd better get to the point.

Dang! Just what was that point anyway? Me and this Toshiba. We just aren't on the same page yet. Well, if I practice for a week, maybe I can have a golf column next Sunday.

You think?

Contact Howard Ward at 867-6493 or 690-2211 or by e-mail at

howardward@att.net