Greatest Lost Band of the 1960s_
EXT. LATE AFTERNOON. DOWNTOWN RIVERSIDE YMCA
The van pulls up outside the YMCA on a downtown street. It is now late
afternoon. Again we emphasize how straight the rest of the world is: the
people walking down the sidewalk outside are strictly suits and ties and
big summer dresses; it could almost be the 1950s.
Rick and R-Moe tumble out the back of the woodie looking cool and longhaired.
Their body language is loose and happy and completely different to the
stiff, stern-faced figures walking by.
They run up the steps of the building and a few moments later emerge with
Steve Whiting. Rick and R-Moe are carrying Steve's bass cabinet,
while Steve himself just carries his bass guitar.
Tall, rugged and handsome in a classic square-jawed American way, at 19
he looks like a grown man next to the others, who are still in high school.
He carries himself with confidence and we can tell the others look up
to him in many ways. As the others struggle to load in his amp, Steve
pauses to coolly light a cigarette, accentuating his grown-up
LEFT TO RIGHT