April 1, 2020 The current run [1] on toilet paper is not a big deal; it’s trivial, I know.   After this Covid-19 pandemic is over (Please God!), the TP story will survive only as a footnote in the many books that will come out focusing on the folly, misery and unimaginable tragedy. [2] The following anecdote is just one of millions here in the US, most of which are surely funnier or more interesting.   The reader, therefore, is warned—and may at the same time be relieved that I’ll not discuss this catastrophe, though I am well aware of it.   (How could one not be aware?)  This morning at about 6:45 I made an early run (sorry!) to a big supermarket on the north side of town, not the usual one we shop at.   I’d recently learned that it was open for “seniors and vulnerable” only on Wednesdays from 6:00 to 9:00.    I was pleased to see, as I approached, the huge parking was not crowded at all.   Entering the store, and using one of the wipes [3] to wipe [3] off the han