I don’t have a lot in common with Tiger Woods.

For instance, I don’t live in a mansion in a gated community outside Orlando, Fla. Then again, I am not a current resident at a clinic for an apparent sex addiction in Hattiesburg, La., either.

However, we do both play golf. Actually, I play golf. And not particularly well. As the saying goes, Tiger plays a game with which I am not familiar.

But I am also not all that enamored of a lot of the technology that I find myself increasingly swimming – or is it sinking? – in every day.

I only recently have started carrying a cell phone with me. Of course, I don’t always remember to turn it on. I’m told that kind of defeats the purpose.

I also do not text. I’m thinking right about now Tiger wishes he were maybe a little more like me.

It seems that his penchant for texting led to the collapse of his marriage and the most famous fender-bender, in which Tiger lost a one-on-one battle with a fire hydrant, in U.S. history.

The story now goes something like this. Tiger apparently was forced to confide to his wife, Elin Nordegren, that the National Enquirer was going to publish a story that he was cheating on her with a woman named Rachel Uchitel. Tiger actually called Rachel and had her talk to Elin to deny the story, saying they were just friends.

Tiger then took an Ambien and decided to call it a night. Elin apparently was not convinced. With Tiger zonked, she took his cell phone and started going through it. She sent a text to Rachel, under the guise that it was from Tiger. Rachel responded. Elin then called her on the phone.

Busted!

She then confronted Tiger, who fled the house – and a golf club wielding Elin, jumped in his SUV, headed down the driveway and into tabloid infamy.

I have said many times that, just once, I would like to get my hands around the neck of the person who keeps telling me, “This technology is going to make your life so much easier.”

I think Tiger might agree.