In Los Angeles it was spring and spring and spring again last week for youngsters discovering the bouncing delights of Trampolines. An enterprising entrepreneur, sensing a 1960 answer to Tom Thumb golf, dug pits at a dozen localities, stretched Trampolines, over them, put up "Jump for Joy" signs and let the public somersault and soar 30 minutes for 40¢.
At the University of California's Berkeley campus it was boy-meets-girl time, but the meeting was across a giant chessboard. The boys had moved into their new half concrete, half glass Ehrman Hall, looked out and saw Davidson Hall, a girls' dormitory, right across the quadrangle.
Putting the windows of their eight-story building to use, the boys first hung out signs—"Big Daddy Is Watching You," read one huge Ehrman-to-Davidson window message—and then challenged the girls to a chess match. Four-foot-high cardboard chessmen were cut out and placed in Ehrman's windows. "Is it war?" the boys asked. "P-K4" shot back the girls, beginning the move-a-day contest.
The girls sent their best player to the library to study chess books. The boys set up a chess strategy committee and also moved all chessmen; a duty involving telephone talks like this: "Hello, room 809. Take your castle to room 509. But be nice. Room 509 hates chess." Tough business when a man's home is Ehrman's castle. Other hazards included the windy night a knight fell out a window.
By last week Davidson's girls, miss-playing, seemed doomed to defeat. And Ehrman, still dismaying school authorities, had put a huge, chessy sign across a dozen of its windows: "Give Us a Queen for a Night."
Cal's gals plot a move with aid of small board for transfer to 64-window "chessboard" of boys' Ehrman Hall dormitory.