I’m not upset about it. I understand....

I’m not upset about it. I understand. When you’ve got 6,273 people running for mayor of Los Angeles, you can’t invite all of them for a debate--at least not at the same time and place. So for its candidates’ forum Thursday, the Century City Chamber of Commerce has invited only those it considers Major Players: Nate Holden, Richard Katz, Richard Riordan, Joel Wachs and Michael Woo.

That leaves me and 6,267 others out in the cold. But just to prove I don’t take it personally--just to show how committed I am to the democratic process--fair play for the lions in the arena, not just for the Christians, so to speak--here’s more information about the event: It will be from 7:30 to 9:30 a.m. in the Grand Salon of the J. W. Marriott Hotel, 2151 Avenue of the Stars. Moderator: William T. Graysen of Graysen, Kaplan & Moran. Cost: $25 for chamber members, $40 for non-members. Reservations: (310) 553-2222.

There.

Now let me answer a few of your questions, just as if I were up there at that big table in Century City with all the heavyweights.

You’re an unknown. Even in a race with more than its share of dark horses, you’re the longest of long shots. What makes you think you can win?

Political analysts say I’ll need just 0.7% of the vote to get into a runoff. My wife will vote for me--she’s been after me for years to get a decent job. My deadbeat cousin Morty owes me 50 bucks--he’ll vote for me if I write it off. That’s two right there. A couple more, I figure, and I’ll be over the top.

What’s your platform?

I’ll try to do everything I can to keep everybody in Los Angeles happy.

Does that include lobbyists and developers?

I want to make one thing perfectly clear: Nobody can buy me. But, hey, if they want to talk, I’ll talk to them. They’re constituents too.

What about minorities and the poor?

My platform is the same as everybody else’s: Keep the lid on. Just don’t spend any tax money doing it.

Can you describe your personal motivation for running?

Babes.

Excuse me?

In high school, the quarterbacks got the babes. But what if you were short and fat like me or skinny like you? What if you didn’t have the arm to be a quarterback? What if you couldn’t read defenses or avoid the blitz? I bet you vowed: “Someday, I’m going to be a hotshot political reporter, and then . “ Well, I vowed: “Someday I’m going to have gobs of money and power, and then. “ Same thing.

But you’re a married man, with three grown children. And you look less like Robert Redford than like an Idaho russet at the supermarket. You’re 56 years old. Didn’t anybody tell you high school is over?

Don’t play dumb. If you’re really a reporter, you know Rule One about politics and everything else: High school is never over.

Ever.