Sometimes it's good for me to have the shoe put on my other foot.

However overwhelmingly large that shoe might seem.

Voluminous knowledge can be a pain for those on the receiving end. I know I sometimes overwhelm people who might just have a passing interest in, say, The Beatles or Frank Zappa. My confidence that I can point someone in the direction of something they'll like can turn into too much information.

I might say something like, "Start with 'Rubber Soul,' then pick up 'Abbey Road,' then grab 'Revolver,' " when the best solution might be, "Maybe you should just start with a best-of."

Film buffs (and I do consider myself one) are just as bad. If you like the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy, too many of us think, you should go grab Jackson's "Heavenly Creatures." We recommend this because we think it's a better film, but it's also kind of cool that we have our own language and appreciation of the director's work before he went mainstream.

That's the way elitism works, and it works for all kinds of art. Even the most well-meaning of us can easily (albeit unintentionally) fall into snobbery.

It's also kind of fun to show off that voluminous knowledge.

But it's good to have the tables turned once in a while, too.

Years ago, a friend showed me a couple of pages from a graphic novel. My friend knew I'd appreciate one feature: Drawn into the backgrounds of different scenes were members of The Beatles and The Monkees.

My friend was impressed with the graphic novel (although the story might just have been in comic book form at the time - I can't remember). Every once in a while, I'd remember it and think, "I should go find that." But I couldn't remember the name.

It recently popped back into my head again. Instead of again attempting to tap my hazy memory, or do some frustrating Web search, I actually picked up the phone and called somebody who might know.

A couple of hours later, I was standing in a comic book store.

I've had some interesting experiences in comic book stores. Once, I walked into one at midday, and it appeared to be empty. As I looked around, a young man suddenly appeared from what I guessed was the back room. He was dressed in what appeared to be the fur of a yak and was holding a 6-foot staff.

"We're fighting the forces of evil," he declared, wide-eyed, pointing the staff toward the back. "Would you like to join us?"

I demurred. I was just look for some copies of "The Tick."

So I eagerly anticipated what this trip to the comic book store would bring.

It was overwhelming.

I was looking for one specific book: "Marvels," a paperback collection of four comic books telling the story of a number of superheroes intertwined, told from the point of view of a newspaper photographer who followed them.

What I found was shelf upon shelf of comics and paperback collections. And everything looked unbelievably COOL.

I suppose you eventually always come back to the things you love, however immature or cheesy or embarrassing you might find them down the line. As I saw collections of Fantastic Four and Superman and Batman, I remembered when I used to have stacks of comics in my room, and my friends and I would get together and swap books, or just bring stacks and operate like a mini-library, each of us reading the others' prized possessions.

Given the warm feelings I had, I felt fortunate to get out with just my copy of "Marvels." (Although I DID ask about another book, "Ruins," whose name I'd come across when doing some Web research on "Marvels." Fortunately, "Ruins" is yet to be collected in book form, or reissued in any way.)

The best thing, though, was that, instead of being greeted by people battling the forces of evil, I was greeted by a couple of guys who sensed I was out of my element and were aching to help me figure out what I wanted.

We talked briefly about my tastes. They mentioned a couple of things I might like. The names Frank Miller and Alan Moore kept popping up. (I suppose I could call them The Beatles and Rolling Stones of graphic novels, but that would probably annoy some of the fan boys.) And "Preacher" and "The Punisher" are high on my list.

Those lists wouldn't be there without some patience and understanding from a couple of guys who knew a lot more than me.

A lesson to remember.

timcain@herald-review.com|421-6908