My friend C. is a lot smarter than I am and is a musician to boot.
He occasionally borrows books I have from undergrad about medieval art criticism and when I see him next he has interesting things to say about them. I nod my head and pretend I remember what I skimmed through 20 years ago before a test. In the past, we've read Trollope's Palliser novels and War and Peace at the same time and had good discussions, but for the life of me I still can't get through Varieties of Religious Experience or Proust, two of his favorites.
C. also makes posts about music now and again: intelligent, thought provoking posts about things like piano, punk rock and the middle class living room. I'm not sure that he has any interest in spandex jumpsuits at all though. Luckily, C. is not a music snob and we've shared many wine moments singing along with Steve Perry. Even so, I still feel vindicated when he posts a link to articles like this one from Salon.
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