This morning I happily drove to pick up copies of The New York Times featuring an article about Amandla’s friendship with fellow actor Rowan Blanchard. Ahead of me was a very large man – in height and girth – who purchased half a dozen magazines.
 
“Would you like a bag with that?” asked the newsstand man.
 
“No, thanks,” replied the customer.
 
I placed my five hefty issues of the Sunday Times on the counter and handed him my credit card. He rang up my purchase. Silence. “May I have a bag please?” I asked.
 
“Sure,” he said, reaching for a white plastic bag behind him and placing the  papers inside.
 
I immediately launched into my default way of being and interacting in the world, a tactic I think I learned, perhaps unconsciously, from my mother. I engaged him.

1. Heading out the door to Agape the last Sunday in February aka Black History Month.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock or are sulking in the sunshine state after a recent demotion, you’ve probably noticed that the Vermont senator has been keeping really good company as of late. We’re talking A-listers and Forest Gump-like historical figures.

Among my favorite situations and stars: In a therapy session with Tony Soprano and Dr. Melfi. Bear-hugging from behind a topless Janet Jackson as pictured on the cover ofRolling Stone. Astride the motorcycle on the album cover of Prince’s “Purple Rain.” Off to one side as the Sex and the City cast — everyone except for Kim Cattrall, that is — yuks it up over Cosmopolitans. Get it?

I, too, joined in on the fun.