The Kid's Still Alright: Pete Townshend

"WHAT A PLEASURE to meet you," Pete Townshend says, hiding nothing behind blue eyes once I'd mentioned the magic mantra (BigO). He quickly extends his hand and grabs mine, taking me completely by surprise. (Gee whiz, wasn't that supposed to happen the other way around?) "We've corresponded," he nods, obviously recalling our past interview solicitations. I'm beside myself, completely thrilled over his generosity, as he's just taken this precious moment to disrupt the proceedings. It's 6.30 pm, July 29, 1993; some 25 other journalists are staring stupified, and the press conference hangs suspended while Pete Townshend gives me license to steal some thunder.