KEITH HOPWOOD

    Always plays the guitar loud! And he plays the same thing over and over! . . . Loves to laze about . . . On an insane Bob Dylan kick. Plays Dylan tunes and sings Dylan songs endlessly . . . He used to be the silent one. Never spoke to a person. But since our last trip to America he has certainly changed. No more sitting in corners reading books for our boy, Keith . . . Non-committal . . . Loves wimpies (English hamburgers) and chips . . . Likes tall, lean, green girls . . . Future motion picture photographer . . . Digs driving his Woolsey car . . . Terrific sleeper . . . Never uses a pick, but rings away with his long fingernails . . . Wild for buttons. Has 28 on one of his shirts . . . Good taste in clothes . . . Very deep . . . No one really knows him.


DEREK LECKENBY

    "Lek" . . . Victim of a Seattle butcher (barber) on our last trip to America . . . Hates it when folks get his birthday mixed up. He was born on May 14, 1945, and is 20 years old . . . Always wears glasses - even in bed . . . Six feet tall . . . Huge record collection: mostly rock and roll and jazz guitar . . . Meticulous . . . Knows where everything is . . . Digs neat, petite, dark-haired girls . . . Curried chicken freak . . . Has perfect pitch . . . Hates shaving . . . Never scruffy . . . Paces the dressing room like a caged tiger . . . Used to blink all the time till we told him not to . . . We all respect his judgement in all matters, but we never let him know it . . . Fidgety . . . Sleeps with guitar. It's true love.