My favorite zip code is back.

The CW update of “90210” made an impact ratings-wise for its premiere, but how else is it impacting our young’ns?

The spin-off has new characters mirroring the original cast’s personas. There seems to be an updated version of every favorite: Brenda, Brandon, Kelly and even Dylan. This time around, the Walshes become the Wilsons, and they hail from Kansas instead of Minnesota.

Annie is Brenda, version 2.0. Dixon is her black adopted brother, not a twin like Brandon was, but still picking up an after-school job at the Peach Pit just as Brandon did. The siblings have moved with their parents, played by Rob Estes and Lori Loughlin (Becky from “Full House”). Estes’ character, Harry, becomes West Beverly High’s new principal.

Kelly Taylor (Jennie Garth) and Brenda (Shannon Doherty) have even come back to the series reprising their original roles. I grew up with “90210.” It was my favorite show to watch with my two sisters. I remember every episode: When the gang spent the summer at the beach house and played poker, when Brenda faked a French accent and when David seduced Donna amidst the lit up palm trees in the Peach Pit After Dark.

These scenes are part of my childhood memories. I could have only hoped that the update would hold true for the next generation of teens.

In the first minutes of the new series’ premiere, one of the main male characters, Ethan, is shown sitting in an SUV receiving “services” from a female student.

Before watching the initial show, I knew the fellatio was coming. I suppose I thought I was more ready than I was.

Is this the direction we’re going for teen drama?

The first time around watching Brenda, Brandon, Kelly, Donna, Dylan and company, I saw young actors addressing what I perceived to be real issues for teenagers. And, when it came to sex, the girls on the program went about the entire act differently. It wasn’t as if the topic was looked over. It certainly was addressed.

The characters seemed to always be attached. Generally, the characters fell in love and when they did, they practiced safe sex.

In the new series, the character Naomi, playing the newer version of Kelly, says she’ll do anything and sleeps with a boy she barely knows after discovering the news of her adulterous boyfriend. Is this how we want to portray our young girls, desperately vying for attention and praise from males?

Where is the football player diving out of a girl’s lap, wiping his mouth and looking around suspiciously? He’s not residing in this zip code, because in this neck of the woods, women are subjugated as playthings, not the men.

Originally, the girls were friends. Brenda, Kelly and Donna were constantly together, eating french fries and megaburgers at the Peach Pit and making constant shopping trips. One time, Brenda even stole something. That was a good episode; she learned a lesson!

Maybe Kelly and Brenda swapped Dylan back and forth, causing a bit of dramatics, but there was an underlying camaraderie between them. On the CW’s version, Naomi and Annie are barely friends. In fact, Naomi is barely likable, traipsing around the campus in short skirts, her face soaked in tears or toting a snide look.

Naomi is this generation’s Kelly Taylor, but they only share the qualities of a wealthy family and a charge account paid for by Daddy. Kelly was likable.

As a viewer, you cared about her. In one of the first episodes, Kelly recounts a painful past experience and you empathize as a viewer. When her eyes well up with tears, yours do, too.

It’s a shame when a character comes across as so shallow that you couldn’t care less when you find her in tears. In this case, she discovers her father locking lips with another woman. I don’t care about her character when she doesn’t seem to care about anyone but herself.

The dichotomy of her relationship with her boyfriend takes it to a lower level. The acting between Spencer and Heidi on “The Hills” is far superior to what I’ve seen between the characters of Ethan and Naomi on “90210.” Contrived. Ingenuous. I don’t buy it.

Essentially, television provides entertainment with underlying messages for anyone who consumes its diatribe. This particular program portrays emaciated fashionistas whose main concern is men.

The main redeeming quality of this series is the casting of “Arrested Development” alumna Jessica Walter as Annie and Dixon’s grandmother. She carries most of the family scenes playing the perpetually boozed granny, toting around her “iced tea” from Long Island. She sings cabaret-style in episode three after she picks up the job of directing the school musical. She is an absolute pleasure to watch.

All criticism aside, the show has been interesting to watch as a quasi-reunion with the characters I grew up with. I can only wish that the female characters change their priorities to show a more realistic teen, but this is 2008 and the media is telling us that this is the future of the teenager. I have faith that my favorite zip code can find its way back home, maybe not to Kansas or Minnesota, but to where it once was.

Briana Monasky can be reached at [email protected]