Having visited Berkeley many times since 1939, I thought it would be a good retirement colony. So I hired a 26-foot moving van, engaged my daughter and stepdaughter and drove north from Idyllwild on Nov. 2.
When I rented the van for delivering my goods to Berkeley, the agent said something was peculiar and that I was forbidden to take the van to Berkeley U-Haul, so I said I would take it to Richmond. After a long drive, we arrived at Berkeley Self-Storage on San Pablo Avenue and parked for the night, staying in San Francisco.
The next day, with a crew of three, we unloaded into four storage units and tried to deliver the van, not to Berkeley U-Haul, a block away on San Pablo, but to Richmond U-Haul, where a very hostile young lady refused to take it, since I hadn’t called, and said that I must take it to Oakland, where, after much trauma, burning of gas, pollution of the atmosphere, etc., we finally managed to leave the van.
What kind of crackpot rules has Berkeley generated?