Sitting in Mr. Hewson's living room in Howth, Ireland, I feel like I'm back in high school trying to talk one of my buddy's dads out of grounding him.

"You know, Mr. Hewson," I say, "Bono mentioned that girl who climbed up on him from the audience during 'Babyface.' He was as shocked as you were!"

"Yeah, well" —Bob looks at me through narrow eyes—"the first time it was unexpected, but the second time it wasn't."

He's got me there. I ask about his reaction to the whole Zoo TV spectacle.

"You mean this particular tour? I must admit I don't particularly like this thing of sunglasses and cigars. In fact I've several times dressed him down over presenting a bad image. Kids follow, and every time I see him now he has a cigar in his mouth. He maintains it's an image. He swears he doesn't inhale! I gave up smoking twenty years ago and neither

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Norman nor Paul ever smoked until now. I don't agree with that at all. I know that my view is a narrow view and we're a different generation, and I know that people onstage have to adopt certain personas. Maybe it's necessary. Personally, I don't think it is.

"As regards the 'Zooropa thing,' I think that they've lost ..." Mr. Hewson hesitates and then explains why he's being so blunt: "When he asks for my opinion about anything I always give him the truth. I figure they've enough yes-men around them, somebody should tell them the truth." (Bono once said of his dad, "He thinks I've got too many yes-men because he is the no-man.")

Mr. Hewson gives his opinion of post-Zoo U2: "I think that the thing has got out of hand. Somebody was saying, 'What are we going to do for the next tour? It can't get any bigger.' My view is that it should go back to being four fellas with guitars and forget all of that stuff. I think something's lost in the transition from the original format that they had. Maybe these things are necessary to a certain extent, but . . ." He laughs and his face softens. "I'm only—to use an Irish expression—a goballoon, I don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, Mr. Hewson," I suggest, "they feel that U2's fame has gotten so big and intrusive that the only way to maintain any semblance of private life is erect a bit of a facade."

"Well, I don't mind that so much," he says. "That's understandable. You can't be a public figure all the time. But they started off and they because successful as sort of a good, clean-living band. In America this was particularly so. Somebody in one of the American newspapers wrote, 'Most rock & roll bands start off with drink and drugs and then end up seeing the light. U2 have done it the reverse way!' I don't agree with it, I don't agree with this image of decadence they've gotten into. God, I'm going to get into trouble for saying it."

"But there's not much actual decadence," I protest. "It's more If I'm going to be a rock star, let me really play the role of a rock star. But I take your point, a fourteen-year-old kid may not make the distinction."

"And in changing that way they have become like any other old rock & roll band," Bobby says firmly. "I may be wrong with this, but I think in America one of the reasons for their success—apart from their music —is that they presented a new image, a clean image, God-fearing, Christian. Now, I'm not saying you can be that all the time, but at the same time I think—God, I'll get shot—the deliberate decision to alter

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that image I don't agree with." He smiles and throws up his hands. "I'll probably never be asked to a rock concert again."

"I think a version of that same argument went on within the band," I say, "before they headed in this new direction."

"Yeah." Bobby nods. "I don't know who was responsible. I have an idea it was my young fella, however. Wouldn't surprise me with regard to him."

"I think Bono and Edge were pushing for the band to change," I say. "Larry may have said—"

"'Why?' A very solid man, Larry. Very solid man. I remember talking to Larry in the foyer of a hotel in Paris. There was a crowd outside. Paul was with me and couldn't get away. I said to Larry, 'Aren't you the cute man now!' He says, 'Why?' I said, 'You never have to do interviews!' 'Listen, pal,' he said to me, 'I did one interview for the band and it was the last interview I've ever done!' I said, 'You're a wise man.' Larry's a very practical guy. Very likable guy too." Larry told me once that he gets along well with Bono's father. When Bobby shows up at a gig he and Larry often go off and shoot pool together.

It would be a big mistake to misunderstand a Dublin father's insis­tence on keeping his famous boy from getting too big a head. Mr. Hewson's pride in his son is evident from the platinum U2 albums on the wall (though his own CD shelf is filled with classical music), the photos taken by Bono in Africa that appoint his dining room, and one particularly great photograph hanging above me now, of Bobby running toward the camera with a wild expression on his face—equal parts amused, panicked, and embarrassed—with Bono and Adam laughing in the background. It turns out it was taken on stage at a big outdoor concert in Dublin. Bobby was standing in front of the stage when Bono reached down his arm to him. He thought this son was trying to shake his hand, so he reached back—and a moment later found himself hauled up on the stage and Bono dancing with him to the cheers of the crowd. He shook himself loose and got out of there as fast as he could, a photographer catching his escape as he came off. The large framed photograph—and the prominent place it has in Mr. Hewson's home— says that beneath his gruffness he takes a lot of pride in his son's accomplishments.

Which is not to say there isn't plenty of gruff. Mention that most people refer to Paul as "Bono" and Bobby says, "That used to drive me

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mad.' I still never will call him that. I call him Paul. I've said to him on more than one occasion, 'Your mother christened you Paul and Paul you're going to remain!' In fact, I think he gets annoyed if people outside call him Paul. I think that's for family. He started off being called Bonovox or some stupid thing Derek—Guggi—or some of his pals had christened him. I think it stuck. I must say it never went down right with me."

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