They’re calling day and night. Politicians in Albany preparing for primary contests are ringing me at home, asking for my vote this Tuesday.

While I consider myself a good citizen, and someone who sees voting not only as a civic duty but a national privilege — a lot of people in a lot of countries never get the chance — I’m getting a little sick of all the attention.

You know what I’m talking about. Pre-recorded messages that, through the wonders of computer-assisted technology, are piped over the telephone lines and into the houses of registered voters. I’m sure people of all parties also get the calls, when their candidates are on the campaign.

Sunday night, I was watching the last minutes of the Arizona Cardinals-San Francisco 49ers game when Helen Desfosses called. I almost didn’t answer, but I’m not one of those guys who screens phone calls. “Y’ello,” I said, as the game hit the three-minute mark of the fourth quarter. After a two- or three-second pause — as the technology gremlin said “Hah! We’ve got one!” — I heard: “Hello. This is Helen Desfosses, former president of the Albany Common Council ...”

I had to interrupt: “Helen, you’re calling right near the end of the football game. You’re going to have to call back later.” Then I hung up. I try to be polite with all my callers, even if they’re on tape.

I’ve been getting messages of mercy from the Darius, Jerry, Corey and Lenny camps. Jack McEneny has telephoned. So have bunches of campaign workers and aides, telling me why their candidates simply must have my support. They’re going to build a better city, and I’m going to help!

Sometimes, I think I’ll vote for the candidate who doesn’t pester me. All these phone messages clog up my answering machine, and take spots away from talkers like Nissen, Goodwin, The Commander and my brother Tim, all of whom deliver crank calls on a regular basis. And they’re always live, not formidable enough to tape their gab to me in advance.

The politicians I always remember are the guys who make the effort to stop by in person. Not their lackeys. One candidate actually stopped by Sunday afternoon, as the New York Yankees were out-polling my Baltimore Orioles — another landslide victory for the Yanks — and I saw him leaving my front steps. As my doorbell is out of order — actually a blessing during primary and election seasons — I caught the guy as he was leaving. He seemed grateful to have made a voter connection, and seemed like a decent, down-to-earth guy — not just a recorded voice over the phone.

So he’s got my vote.

The rest of those guys are going to have to sweat it out.