At one time, being labeled a renaissance man meant one was able to excel in arts, scholastics and other social and cultural interests. Well, we all have a chance to see a modern renaissance man tonight, and all we have to do is flip on the TV and tune in to NBC.

If you can pull your eyes away from the dead mammal on the top of his head, you’ll see that the modern renaissance man is Donald Trump.

The Donald has his hands all over the place. He’s a real-estate mogul, golf course owner, casino owner, running late-night punch-line and a reality TV icon. But that wasn’t good enough for the Donald; now, he wants to be a sociologist.

And with the new season of “The Apprentice,” which premieres tonight at 7:30 p.m., Trump will be adding another feather to his, um, cap. This isn’t just any old season of “The Apprentice.” This time instead of starting with the men versus the women, it’s the people with “book smarts” against the folks with “street smarts.”

Wow. There hasn’t been this important of a public sociological experiment since two renowned scientists, Dan Aykroyd and Eddie Murphy, tackled the age-old nature versus nurture question in “Trading Places.”

I can only hope “The Apprentice” and “Trading Places” end in similar fashions, with the test subjects revolting to steal the old, rich men’s money. But seriously, Trump does pose some interesting questions by pitting high school graduates against college graduates. The show is hyping the challenge as “theory vs. practicality.”

There is more to being street smart than being practical. Street smarts are almost synonymous with common sense in modern-day usage. When I think of someone who possesses street smarts, I imagine someone who knows how to manipulate a situation to best fit present needs.

There are some negative connotations to being referred to as “street smart.” It implies your expertise is either, a) limited to Lincoln Avenue or b) acquired by spending a lot of time in the street.

Now these aren’t necessarily true. But street smarts do come from somewhere, and it surely isn’t from the inside of a classroom. Book smarts come from the most surprising of places – books.

Book smarts imply a limit to someone’s “smarts,” more so than street smarts does. How many times have you described someone with good grades who doesn’t show it in actions as having “book smarts but not a lot of common sense?”

The answer is seven.

But back to what really matters – which of the pretty high school or college graduates will win a job to be Trump’s next apprentice? It more than likely will be the person whose intellect isn’t limited to quadratic functions or the cheapest way to buy advertising.

A balance of the two seems like the most attractive option. And, come to think of it, the same applies here at Eastern. A student who solely relies on book smarts, will probably graduate with a gaudy GPA, but that same student will probably not enjoy all the social advantages and opportunities that occur when your head isn’t buried in a mythology book.

Inversely, a student whose idea of studying is ogling an un-expecting co-ed from across the bar will also miss a crucial part of the college experience, the seldom popular, but underrated learning.

So life at Eastern isn’t all that different from life on “The Apprentice:” You need a balance of street and book smarts to succeed. If you fail to find that balance you’ll see a quick four-finger point and hear your professor say those two dreaded words – you’re failing.