Talk: I just have to wonder ... why ‘SATC’?

THERE’S A LOT OF THINGS I don’t get in this old world, which probably doesn’t come as a surprise to many of you.

But there’s one thing I really — and I mean really — don’t get, and that’s the appeal of “Sex and the City.”

Oh, I understand that it’s not a guy thing. It’s most definitely a chick thing. But some chick things offer a little something for the fellows. Not “Sex and the City,” though, which has the kind of inane dialogue that makes my eyes spin like cherries in a slot machine.

So I pretty much ignored the spicy HBO series when it ran from 1998 to 2004. But it’s been a little harder to ignore the much tamer TBS syndicated version, especially since my wife always seems to stop on it when she’s got control of the clicker.

And now, of course, there’s going to be a barrage of “Sex and the City” coverage with this week’s release of the feature film that will bring everyone up-to-date with the very complicated lives of Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte.

Ugh.

Here’s the bigger problem. Not only will the release cause my wife to head back to Blockbuster to rent countless episodes one more time in order to prepare for the film, but it will also make coming into work much tougher this week.

In case you haven’t noticed, this paper’s Life & Style section will be filled with “Sex and the City” stories, put there by our female editors who think they’re just like “Sex and the City” characters. My direct editor, for instance, is a devotee of the show, and although I’ll politely decline to name her, for the purposes of this column, I’ll call her “Betsey.”

Well, “Betsey” is totally obsessed with “Sex and the City,” and now she has ordered me to write this column as a companion piece to all of the other coverage of the movie’s release.

Yeah, right, like I care about Carrie’s relationships, Samantha’s bed-hopping, Miranda’s career or Charlotte’s goody-goodiness. I’m sorry, but how much chatter can you stand to listen to about clothes, shoes, men and jobs?

Come on, if I want to see four people sitting around a restaurant table discussing the vagaries of life, I’ll just watch “Seinfeld.” Jerry, Elaine, George and Kramer are the characters that truly speak to me and my issues.

Guys love “Seinfeld.” That’s an established fact. But no self-respecting guy would ever admit to loving “Sex and the City.” Sure, the sex part is OK, but we could do without that life in the city stuff.

It also doesn’t help that I’m not a big fan of the show’s star, Sarah Jessica Parker. I liked her in the short-lived 1982 series, “Square Pegs,” but since then, not so much.

Parker does get a lot of bonus points, though, for being married to Matthew Broderick, the star of one of the greatest movies of all-time, “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.” That, folks, is a great guy movie.

Let me just add that if there were a new film coming out this week updating the exploits of Ferris, Cameron, Sloane, Jeanie and Mr. Rooney 22 years later, I would already be standing in line for tickets. And I would be demanding that “Sex and the City”-wannabe “Betsey” fill these pages with the appropriate amount of coverage.

Sadly, that will not be the case. I’m stuck instead trying to think of something good to say about “Sex and the City” just to keep “Betsey” happy. Hmmm, let’s see.

Hey, did you know that Charlotte, played by Kristin Davis, is from Columbia in real life? Oh, yeah, we’ve covered that about a zillion times.

All right, try this on. The character of Mr. Big was much better as Det. Mike Logan on the “Law & Order” series. I know, it appears my heart isn’t really in this assignment.

So I asked my wife what she likes about the series, and she rambled on a bit, something like blah, blah, blah, blah. (I was reading Sports Illustrated and not paying very close attention to her answer.) But I did hear her make a comparison of the show to “Little Women.”

What? The 1868 novel by Louisa May Alcott?

Come on, I don’t think Jo, Meg, Beth and Amy were out there sleeping around and wearing Manolo Blahniks.

OK, I’ll just admit that I’m never going to get it. Here’s the column, “Betsey.” Enjoy the movie, ladies.

I’ll be home watching a couple of “Seinfeld” episodes.