Sometimes I feel like a woman.

No, wait, that didn’t come out right.

It’s not that I feel like a woman, but rather I know how a woman feels sometimes. Gee, that doesn’t sound so good for me either.

The point I’m trying to make is that Michael Phelps is starting to get on my nerves.

It’s not really about the Olympic swimmer. I admire his achievements as much as the next guy. I just wish he wore a shirt more often.

How can I be expected to look at those abs every night without feeling bad about myself?

This is how some women must feel when the media obsesses over skinny actresses and supermodels. This is how some women must feel when they see an endless parade of bikini-clad women on magazine covers. This is how some women must feel when they look at Angelina Jolie.

I make no excuses for the media’s obsession. I suppose that I am as guilty as anyone for making women feel bad about themselves. But I do want women to know that men have their own body issues.

For a guy, it all starts on the playground with shirts and skins basketball games. For those of us who - how shall I put this? - sport a 12-pack instead of a six-pack, the greatest moment of childhood dread occurs when they decide on the playground who is to be shirts and who is to be skins.

I’m not sure what the female equivalent of the shirts and skins game is, but I feel your pain.

The beach, in general, and spring break, in particular, wasn’t much of a problem for me because I didn’t spend a lot of time on the sand. Besides, guys weren’t as buff back then as they are now. If you’ve ever watched one of those MTV spring break specials, it seems as if no college-age guys have a gut anymore.

It is possible that the guys with bellies shun the beach, but I can’t believe how much time guys must spend in the gym to look like that. I suppose they have to keep up with the women of their generation, but that’s so sad.

The only times I can remember being humbled physically as a young man was the occasional movie when an actor peeled off his shirt. There weren’t many actors with intimidating pecs, except for maybe Sylvester Stallone. Arnold Schwarzenegger’s muscles were more cartoonish than a threat.

I could survive Stallone because no woman expected any real guy to look like that. I could spend the rest of my life in a gym, eat a dozen raw eggs a day and dance outside the Philadelphia art museum until my feet hurt and I wouldn’t look like Rocky.

There were other actors who buffed out for a particular role, but that never impressed me. Even I could lose weight if you waved enough money in front of me.

I’ll never forget discussing this with Chevy Chase in 1992 just before the release of his film “Memoirs of an Invisible Man.”

The actor didn’t win an Oscar, but he did run around in his underwear for a good part of the movie. He looked trim in the movie, which was a welcome change from his body in the 1986 comedy “Three Amigos!” He told me that he had lost almost 50 pounds, and took a superior attitude with me. I told him I wasn’t overwhelmed because I also would lose 50 pounds if I knew I would be seen for the next 20 years in my underwear. Of course, I didn’t realize at the time that the movie would only be seen for about 20 minutes before disappearing from view.

He responded by calling me the “fattest five-day-a-week-racquetball-player” he’d ever met, and we parted, never to meet again. But I have noticed that he’s put on a few pounds since then.

But Chevy is the least of my problems. It has become the norm in Hollywood for actors to appear buff, whether it’s in an action film or a romantic comedy.

Actors take off their shirts in movies more than actresses these days. I have to interview Matthew McConaughey next week, and I only hope that he wears a shirt. He takes off his shirt a lot, and I guess I don’t blame him. If I looked like that, I wouldn’t own a shirt.

I would shop shirtless. I would go restaurants shirtless. I would definitely answer the door shirtless.

But that doesn’t mean I condone how Michael Phelps dresses at the Olympics. I see no need for him to show off that swimmer’s body. Why can’t he swim in a cardigan sweater and a nice pair of slacks?

And how long before the Winter Olympics start?