Will draws the box office. Forest gets the respect. Denzel creates the memories in every film. But none have the drive, charisma or smoldering sex appeal of Terrence Howard. He’s done black, indie, critically acclaimed. Now the 39-year-old talent is doing big budget. And his time has come…

It’s Super Tuesday In New York City, but Terrence Howard looks nothing like a superhero. Then again, maybe it’s just a matter of terminology because, strolling down an Upper East Side street in a fly wide brimmed fedora, slacks, shiny shoes and a long black coat, his hazel eyes glancing suspiciously at the big building and racing yellow cabs, Howard looks like a movie star on a day off. And what is a movie star these days if not a superhero of sorts, inspiring equal parts admiration and envy, saving folks from mediocrity, swooping in for moments of courage and emotion and color?

Yes, it’s Super Tuesday in New York, one of the high points of current political campaign season, and here’s Terrence Howard, taking two of his three kids to breakfast at a local diner. Sure , he’ll have to be at rehearsal soon for his Broadway debut; sure, he has to do an interview. But right now, Howard is more interested in feeding the birds fluttering in the courtyard of high-toned luxury apartment building. When the uniformed doorman asks him to stop, please, Howard asks why. Not because he’s being a smart-ass movie star but because he genuinely wants to feed the birds. He wants to share the bred crumbs because, as far as he’s concerned, that’s what you do when you have extra — you share. But he doesn’t argue with the doorman; he just takes his bread crumbs and goes.

In the diner he tells me that feeding the birds should be allowed. If it was the “rule” at the apartment building, fine; but for Howard this only points to the larger lack in contemporary society — the way people don’t have the opportunity to commune with nature.