BOING: Stupid is as stupid does

“Terrell Owens is the Jesus Christ of the NFL.”

“Mark McGuire never did steroids.”

“Can I get an enchilada without cheese?”

Indeed, there have been some instances where I may have muttered a word or two slightly below the academic norm – stupid, if you will.

According to Emily Donahue: “Every word that comes out of your mouth.”

Considering she graduated high school a year after I did, went to Gonzaga and will graduate with her bachelor’s degree around the same I’ll walk away with my associates, once again my younger sister is probably right.

OK, she’s definitely right. How do I know this? Because when I take a deep, long look at my published past, I cringe when I see the printed text my high school allowed me to publicly proclaim four years ago:

“Female-athlete is an oxymoron.”

Oh, God.

I still remember that basketball chick hurling a women’s-sized ball towards my head (which, upon impact, really didn’t hurt that bad – after all, women use smaller balls…).

But honestly, I truly do appreciate the game of women’s basketball. And I’m not going to lie; I’ve been updating my ever-growing women’s basketball repertoire almost daily these days.

After what’s-her-name dunked for that one school in the women’s NCAA bracket last month, I must admit I took a step back and absorbed the SportsCenter highlight more than once (names and schools need not matter – they just take away from the fact that a woman “dunked”).

How could this be? How could a woman do something that was once considered a man-only feat?

Upon asking myself that very question, I was taken aback as a blood rush to the head caused me to sit while I pondered of memories past:

How could Amelia Earhardt fly across the ocean? Why, in all of God’s green earth, would the PGA allow a woman to golf in a man’s tournament?

The answer is simple: Because women are capable of everything a man can do (save for whiz standing up or throw down a 22-second keg stand. Then again, if you’ve ever seen a sorority bachelorette party… never mind).

So, really, the greatest thing a woman possibly could do for the sport of basketball is, well, dunk!

It brings new life to a lackluster sport, where the stadiums were hardly full before and network sponsors were minimal. This newer, younger generation of the WNBA is going to throw more high-profile women on the court and more fans in the stands.

And I’m not being facetious: I really do wish well for women’s hoops. In fact, I can wholeheartedly admit that after my uncle forced me to watch the women’s Final Four a few weeks ago, I was somewhat perplexed.

Yes, women’s basketball is a far cry from anything like the men – it reminded me of a high school game where there’s more passing and most shots bounce off the back of the rim – yet calling it more fundamentally sound is dead on.

Not to mention they play with more passion than men.

If you agree with the rest of America that there is more heart in the NCAA than there is money in the NBA, remember that women have far less to look forward to in the pros than do men – where even though they’re going to be playing with the best women in the world, they won’t even make a quarter of the money their male counterparts will make.

So to say women have more heart than men is incredibly justified – more women than men will play their last games in college.

Needless to say, when Tennessee’s Candace Parker twice soared toward the hoop against Army in the first round of this year’s women’s NCAA tournament for the first “slam dunk” in collegiate women’s history (mostly dunk, not so much slam…), it didn’t just bring new life to a once pitiful sport, it threw the WNBA draft into the national spotlight last week.

And once people get excited about the draft, they’ll be stoked as soon as the season starts – I know that I’ve already circled May 23 to see LSU’s Seimone Augustus (the first player picked in the WNBA draft by the Minnesota Lynx) take on the pretty good-looking Debbie Merrill (Ohio State University) and her Connecticut Sun on ESPN2.

But I’m not just in it for good-looking women. Lord knows they’re few and far between in the WNBA.

When I want to see sexy women battle, that’s what women’s tennis is for.

Damn, that was stupid, wasn’t it? Chalk one up for Emily.

Can I get that cheeseless enchilada now?

Playing with Fire

As an artist, Terry Brinton is a freak. In every sense of the word, he is a freak of nature – an outlier, one who transcends the definition of normal. He is a freak in the same light as those who break free from social configuration by defining their own sense of normal.

But no one would know that after just talking with the 24-year-old NIC graduate who continues taking classes at the college. Brinton fits every accepted collegiate stereotype

known to man, dawning a hooded sweatshirt emblazed with an average college logo (West Virginia, in his case), shaggy hair, torn jeans and an old pair of sneakers.

Indeed, there is nothing freaky at all about that. But when a person takes a gander at his artwork, however, it doesn’t take long before he realizes that Brinton flourishes at a level of which most collegiate artists only dream.

His pieces are more reminiscent of the Australian outback than the Guggenheim. Rightfully so, for while other student-artists are busy copying famous artists from past and present, Brinton derives his inspiration from cultures rather than icons.

“I like pieces that look like artifacts,” he said. “Everybody’s work is going to be influenced by the artists they admire. There’s artists I admire, too, but I try to build on my philosophies instead of copying.”

Those philosophies are ever-present throughout his Tubbs Hillside home, where he lives with fiancée Lindsey Schoonover. On the living room wall, sharp copper poles protrude upward just enough to hang a piece of silk over a molten mass of metal that oddly resembles a mask from ancient Africa. Not to mention the back room, where his metalwork seemingly sprawls from every corner. In a glorious glow of red (the lamp is covered with fabric), sketches, paintings and sculptures fill the room where the couple keeps their home theater.

“Some of them are scary and give me nightmares,” Schoonover said. “I’ve made him hide some a few times, but I absolutely love them.”

And it’s that same philosophy – whether inspired from Africa, Oceana or Native America – that can be found on Brinton’s latest endeavor: a heaping mass of copper and stainless steel twisted and welded and cut in so many ways, it’s the most dangerous-looking fountain most people are likely to see.

That’s right, a fountain.

Though dangerous-looking, it was made to help. Brinton was hired by the Coeur d’Alene Community Art Project’s Fountain of Wishes fundraiser to design and sculpt a fountain with a budget of $5,000.

Much like the Moose on the Loose program two years ago – where painted moose statues were strewn about the city in hopes of raising money for local schools – Brinton’s fountain will accompany 13 others along Sherman Avenue. Each fountain will collect change for charity, and at the end of the summer all the fountains will be auctioned. The Coeur d’Alene Fire Department will benefit from Brinton’s fountain.

“If we raise enough money,” Brinton said, “the fire department will be able to buy infrared cameras to locate bodies in burning buildings. Right now they just have to walk around and feel in the smoke.”

Last Monday he won first place at the student art show and even sold a piece for $350. On May 3, from 4- 7 p.m. in the Driftwood Bay upstairs at the SUB, Brinton will be holding his own art show.