I cannot seem to get through a day without turning on my Wii console.

Danged technologically advanced video game system.

This thing is addictive you know.

If you’re not familiar with this gizmo, Wii is a video game system that you play through your television. It displays a simulated sports (or whatever other “virtual reality” choice you make) environment in which you participate by manipulating a hand-held controller. The movements you make with the controller simulate the movements of, for example, a tennis racket, or a bowling ball. Whatever movement you apply to the controller becomes the movement of the tennis racket, bowling ball, etc., of our Wii character on the TV screen.

It’s as close to playing sports as you can get without leaving your house, which is ideal for me, because I would NEVER leave my house if I didn’t have to go to work, etc. I like staying home because, well, that’s where I keep all my stuff.

My dogs lie and watch in confusion and wide-eyed disbelief every morning when I turn on the Wii and move about the den, bouncing from wall to wall like an overcaffeinated test subject. Occasionally they let out a faint whimper or muffled bark to each other. They don’t understand that the “Will me” is fighting for his proverbial life on the grass courts at make-believe Wimbledon. It would be amusing (or perhaps disturbing) to hear what the dogs are thinking.

DOG NO. 1: “Well, it’s finally happened. The old man has snapped.”

DOG NO. 2: “Do you think this means no more doggie treats for us?”

DOG NO. 1: “I ain’t rightly sure but he’s starting to scare me. I’m gonna slide over here under the couch before the fool trips and falls and kills us all.”

DOG NO. 2: “Good idea. Let’s make a run for it.”

They both scamper under the couch.

Will has me firmly in its grasp, and it’s not even the more complicated games. It’s the ones that came with the console — your basic tennis, bowling, baseball, golf and boxing games. I can’t figure out the pitching in the baseball game, the golf game is just not very realistic and I’ve never been a fan of boxing, so I don’t use those much, but the tennis and the bowling, now that’s a different story.

You can design your Wii character’s face to resemble what you actually look like but the similarities end there. From the neck down, your Wii character is basically a round head, a sack-like torso and a half-orb butt (which, come to think of it, is pretty realistic in my case). The legs and arms are occasionally visible but are more implied than actual so your character just floats around over the surfaces like a disembodied ghost (which is sort of an oxymoron because ghosts don’t really have bodies anyway).

I could play this thing for hours. As a matter of fact, I have played it for hours. Sometimes I play until my legs just can’t take it anymore and I collapse into my recliner, at which point the dogs reappear from under the couch and cautiously at first (because they’re still not quite sure what the deal is with the TV and those realistic tennis racket and bowling alley sounds) but surely make themselves available for belly rubbings and head scratchings.

Last week I finally bowled a perfect Wii game, your 12-strikes-in-a-row 300 performance. I wanted to do this for a couple of reasons — one, to just be able to say I had accomplished it and two, to see what would happen. After I rolled the 12th strike, I waited with nervous anticipation, half-expecting a Wii sports announcer to actually materialize out of the TV and interview me right there as hundreds of thousands of fellow Wii bowlers looked on through closed-circuit hook-ups, barely able to contain their admiration at my perfect accomplishment.

But it was nothing like that.

Instead, a voice said “Perfect,” and there was a slight flurry of “virtual reality” confetti.

That was it. It was kind of disappointing. I guess 300 games are not all that uncommon. Now I’m bored with it and don’t play much anymore. My dogs are adjusting nicely. Thanks for asking.