ROTHENBURGER: It’s panic buying, not hoarding, and our brains make us do it
I ONCE RAN INTO ELVIS in frozen foods. He was wearing his jump suit and checking out the Lean Cuisine fridge.
“I’m a huge fan,” I told him. “I have all your LPs.”
“Thank yuh, thank yuh very mush,” he said, gracious as ever and flashing his famous lop-sided grin.
He left the building just before I woke up. It seemed so real.