It's Hard to Be a Saint in the City

Don't you just love it when one of your favorite music heroes does something heroic?

From the Associated Press:

NEW ORLEANS - David Bowie has donated $10,000 to a legal defense fund for six black teens charged in an alleged attack on a white classmate in the tiny central Louisiana town of Jena.

The British rocker's donation to the Jena Six Legal Defense Fund was announced by the NAACP as thousands of protesters were expected to march through Jena on Thursday in defense of Mychal Bell and five other teens. The group has become known as the Jena Six.

"There is clearly a separate and unequal judicial process going on in the town of Jena," Bowie said Tuesday in an e-mail statement. "A donation to the Jena Six Legal Defense Fund is my small gesture indicating my belief that a wrongful charge and sentence should be prevented."

Bell was found guilty on second-degree battery charges June 28 by a six-member, all-white jury. Before the case was overturned by the state 3rd Circuit Court of Appeal, his sentencing had been set for Thursday.

The court said Bell, who was 16 at the time of the alleged December 2006 beating, shouldn't have been tried as an adult.

The Rev. Al Sharpton, who helped organize the march, planned to do his syndicated radio show from Alexandria on Wednesday, then travel about 35 miles to Jena in an attempt to visit Bell, who remains in jail because he is unable to post $90,000 bond. Sharpton says he expects more than 10,000 marchers.

"We are gratified that rock star David Bowie was moved to donate to the NAACP's Jena campaign," National Board of Directors Chairman Julian Bond of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, said in a statement. "We hope others will join him."

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Master Blasted Under the Stars Above

I see a lot of concerts every year, running the gamut of genres: indie bands, heroes from my New Wave days, favorites from my seventies youth. I’m easily impressed with and thrilled by a live show — but only a handful leave me dancing and singing and giggling for days. I experienced one of those live shows Friday night when I saw Stevie Wonder at Chastain Park Amphitheater.

I’ve stated that, next to post-punk and New Wave, R&B from the seventies is one of my favorite music genres. Al Green has always ridden at the crest of that wave for me … but he was unseated Friday night around 9:10. I’ve always loved Stevie Wonder, but his show left me with awe and adulation. My friends and I are still gushing about the show. It was, hands down, the best show I’ve seen all year — knocking Glenn Tilbrook’s January show and Wilco’s June show off the top of the 2007 list. In fact, this show may have been one of the five best I’ve seen in aughts.

I had a rough, stressful week — and struggled all day Friday to stave off the bad mood that wanted to take over my mind. I indulged a bit in the grumps — it was storming, we were going to an outdoor concert, and crap just kept hitting the fan. But I wasn’t going to give in. Stopping by Publix on the way to the show to get wine and munchines (our amphitheater is one of those wine-and-cheese joints), the store started playing Stevie’s “If You Really Loved Me” — and the nastiness in my mood evaporated. I loudly sang along, dancing with my cart up and down the aisles like we were in the “Soul Train” line. I was ready for Stevie.

We hit the amphitheater about an hour before the show, giving us time to carb up on pasta salad and hummus and cookies, marinating our dancing selves with red wine. We were ready for the show.

Stevie (led on stage by his daughter, Aisha Morris) opened the show by explaining he was touring in honor of his mother, who died in 2006. It was a lovely tribute to the woman who, as he explained, wasn’t going to let his blindness leave him blind to the world. He then sat at the piano and played “Love’s in Need of Love Today” — just Stevie and his piano. His band slipped on during the song, and kicked off one helluva great show. Two-plus hours of a show, without a break.

It’s hard to read the notes I wrote in the dark (yeah, I’m one of those nerds who jots down the setlist for the blog), but I think this is accurate:

Love's in Need of Love Today
Too High
Visions
Living in the City
Master Blaster (Jammin’)
Higher Ground
Golden Lady
Ribbon in the Sky (with India.Arie)
Overjoyed
Can’t Imagine Love Without You
Don't You Worry 'bout a Thing
You and I
Lately
How Will I Know (with Aisha Morris)
Signed, Sealed, Delivered
Signed, Sealed, Delivered: The Country Version
My Cheri Amour
All I Do (Is Think About You)
Rocket Love
Sir Duke
I Wish
Boogie on Reggae Woman
Always
Isn't She Lovely
You Are the Sunshine of My Life
Superstition
Part-time Lover
I Just Called to Say I Love You
Another Star

Look at that setlist! Just about as perfect a set as you could wish for. Some huge hits, some great cuts from his best albums. I'll be listening to these MP3s all week long.

“Boogie on Reggae Woman” is one of my very favorite songs in the world — definitely one of the top twenty-five, definitely one of the top five seduce-me tunes. The joy of hearing it live, throwing out my arms and dancing with abandon under the stars above. But, really, every song felt that way. I’ve never been wild about “I Just Called to Say I Love You” — but hearing Stevie sing it to me changed its Cup rating.

One of the sweetest moments was during “Isn’t She Lovely,” which he wrote about Aisha when she was born. She sat on the piano bench with him as he sang, and my crowd teared up.

Stevie was chatty, funny, moving, political. And the crowd ate it up. I’ll never miss another Stevie Wonder show.

Stevie’s T-shirt has Braille on it (the yellow dots); how cool is that!

I’m still on a Wonder high, pretty much living in my Stevie T-shirt and listening to his MP3s all weekend. Do you blame me?

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The Festival of Bookworms: The Cliff Notes Version

I hope you had a good holiday weekend. Chances are, unless you’re that wicca freak who won my lottery jackpot or you finally bedded that long-lusted love, my weekend was better than yours … because I spent my Saturday and Sunday at the second annual Decatur Book Festival.

The festival was better than I expected — and I had great expectations. Writers left and right. Shakespeare performed on the rotunda, poetry slams just steps away. Booths of books and small publishers and writers groups (and beer). Who wants to stay outside on a lovely day when you can go inside darkened halls and listen to authors talk and read their works? Not this wormish woman.

At any given afternoon moment, there were five readings or panels. Not quite a Sophie’s choice, but decisions such as whether to see Hollis Gillespie or Peter Case were tough — which was, in a way, rather thrilling because it meant there were a lot of great writers hanging in my ‘hood this weekend.

Here are the weekend highlights.

Wesley Stace

Maybe you’re unfamiliar with the name, but you may know of his alter-ego’ed John Wesley Harding, a helluva great musician. Stace’s second novel, By George, was just published. His grandfather was a ventriloquist in England during the middle twentieth century, and half the book is narrated by George, his grandfather’s dummy. Yes, Stace tracked it down, and George is touring with him.

Wesley Stace, on stage with George

I got tweener giggles as I walked into the room — Wesley Stace was chatting with Sherman Alexie as I walked by. They both smiled — probably because I had that “golly!” look on my face and kept sneaking peeks at them. I’m such a dork.

This was the first proper long reading of the book, and Stace did a great job with the reading. He was adorable — very British, very charming and witty. Oh, and he’s cute as hell — and he pronounces “papier-mâché” the British way (also the French way, I assume), which made my toes curl. He did a ventrilo-bit with George, which was fun since Stace has no skills in that area.

His John Wesley Harding self was scheduled to perform that evening, so I looked forward to a tale of two Wesleys.


Sherman Alexie

Alexie has been on my top-thirty shelf since I first read The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven in 1993, right after I started working at the bookstore. If you haven’t read him, you should. Maybe you saw the movie Smoke Signals, which was based on those stories.

The worst photo of Sherman Alexie … ever

Catching his appearance was at the top of my festival must list. And Sherman didn’t disappoint. He was personable and funny, alive when he read from his soon-to-be-released young adult novel, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-time Indian. This was his first public reading of the book (we got a lot of those this weekend), so he called his editor so we could all yell hello and took a photo of us.

I picked up a copy of his new book, Flight, earlier Saturday, and read it Sunday morning. Great book.

He took a lot of questions from the audience, sharing parts of himself such as he writes in his head 24/7 (just like I do!) and telling us how he found his poet’s soul in college. I walked out of the sanctuary smitten; two for two for the day.

I almost forgot*: As he was signing my copy of Flight, Sherman sang Kiss’ “Beth” to me. I’ve hated that song since it came out in 1976 … that is, I hated it until 6:12 p.m. Saturday.

*Do you really believe I almost forgot that tidbit?


Wordsmiths Books Panel: Blogging

I got to Wordsmiths a bit late, thanks to enjoying a burger and beer with Scrivener and Mike, but I saw the last fifteen minutes. Wish I’d made it in time; they were paneling about blogging.

I stole this from Baby Got Books; that’s Tim with the microphone.

Later that same evening …

I was excited about Wesley Stace as John Wesley Harding wowing me with his live music … but I ran into a former someone an hour before the show … who charmed me into a beer … which led to another beer … which, well, I had a lot of beer. And no John Wesley Harding ringing in my ears.

Sunday arrives. The simple plan was to hit the festival around noon, in time to see Edmund White, then Robert Olan Butler or Karen Abbott, but Alexie’s book kept me in the bed until I finished it around noon. Still had plenty of time to hit Klosterman. Hit the square an hour before he hit the stage, so I picked up an overpriced gyro and wandered the stalls, watched a bit of Shakespeare, bought even more books. And then I headed to the library, with ten minutes to spare.


Chuck Klosterman

Ten minutes, though, is too late for a Chuck Klosterman appearance. The room hit capacity, so we were led to an overflow room for a simulcast of the interview. Klosterman was thrilled — it was his first time being simulcast. Klosterman was interviewed by Paste magazine founder Josh Jackson (Paste’s HQ is a mile or so off the square).

Paste’s Josh Jackson interviewing Chuck Klosterman

I expected Klosterman to have a snarky, surly edge to him — but he wasn’t. He was funny and entertaining and excited to be talking. He talked about some of his better-known columns, including a good discussion on the Advanced Theory (that day’s example: R. Kelly’s “Trapped in the Closet” — Klosterman said the video of him urinating on that young girl is the least weird of the bunch).

I saw Josh Jackson after Hollis Gillespie’s appearance, so I stopped to tell him he did a great job with the interview; he thanked me and said it was a lot of fun. What I really wanted to do was grab him by the knees and beg for a job at Paste, even as a proofreader. And yet I behaved, shy Cup that I am.

Klosterman had so much fun, he said he wouldn’t mind going over the allotted time to take more questions — but, alas, there was a schedule to follow.

Oh: He has yet to watch an episode of Real World: Sydney.


Hollis Gillespie

Do I even need to write it? Hollis Gillespie was funny and loopy — and inspiring. She appeared with some other blonde writer from Atlanta for a Q&A, and she kept the room laughing. She’s as disorganized a writer as I am — but she puts forth a bit more effort than I do outside my cubicle.

Hollis Gillespie signs my book.

Hollis wants to be my best friend — she just doesn’t know it yet:



She gave us the scoop on her first two books being optioned for television: Mitch Hurwitz, who wrote for "Arrested Development," is heading the project, with Laura Dern in the lead role. They're now shopping it around.

And ... Ms. Gillespie's third book will be published next year.

As I said, Hollis inspired me. She offers a series of writing classes here in town, and I told her I planned to sign up for one this fall. Keep me to that promise, okay? And you can one day say “I read her when” after I’ve become the next NPR star.


Aaron Petrovich

I first heard Aaron Petrovich read at Brooklyn Comes to Decatur, part of a writer’s conference held here in February. His novella is pure dialog — two men talking — and he performed a part of it then and on Sunday. And “performed” is meant here more than anywhere else on this page. It was more theater than reading. He’s captivating, and I’m now a fan. I didn’t take a photo of Aaron Petrovich because I didn’t want to distract him from his reading/performance. Too bad, because he’s damn cute. And that voice — *swoon*.

Petrovich is associate editor at Akashic Books, and I stopped by their booth earlier in the day. He recommended another book from the imprint … and I got to hear him speak. Nothing better than a handsome man with a sexy voice.


Later that same evening …

I was excited about finally seeing Peter Case perform — and meeting Intravenus de Milo’s Tony Alva — but the tug of the books was too strong. I opted for bed and a book; specifically, Wesley Stace’s By George.



Yep. I picked books over music.

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A Reason to Watch

From The Washington Post:

Letterman to Appear on 'Oprah'

David Letterman will make his first appearance on "The Oprah Winfrey Show" next month, another sign the talk-show titans have buried the hatchet after a rift that lasted more than a decade.

Letterman will tape the interview, a rare appearance on someone else's show, on Sept. 10 at Madison Square Garden in New York, Winfrey's production company announced Wednesday.

Their reconciliation began in 2005 when Winfrey appeared on CBS' "Late Show with David Letterman." It was Winfrey's first guest appearance with Letterman, though she twice appeared on his NBC show before the comic jumped networks in 1993.

Letterman frequently joked about Winfrey, and she rejected repeated offers to appear on his program. In 2003, Winfrey told Time magazine she wouldn't appear with Letterman because she had been "completely uncomfortable" as the target of his jokes.

When Winfrey appeared on Letterman's show two years ago, she told him, "I want you to know, it's really over, whatever you thought was happening." Letterman responded: "Are you sure it's over?"

The nationally syndicated show will appear live in some markets and will be rebroadcast in others, said a spokeswoman for Winfrey's Chicago-based Harpo Productions Inc. studios.

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A Groupie’s Dream Weekend

For most of you, this Labor Day weekend will revolve around barbecues and boats and benders.

Not for me.

I’m spending the weekend hanging out in my neighborhood.



Writers both brilliant and banal will be at the Decatur Book Festival for readings, panel discussions, book signings — and to thrill my little bookwormed heart. Baby Got Books also has info on the weekend’s events.

If you love to read, why haven’t you visited Baby Got Books? The Tim formerly known as DJ Cayenne and the rest of his gang keep me up to date on the latest literary news — and their book reviews are quite good.

Here’s the schedule, with the wheres and whens. Map out your must-stops, and let’s plan a meet-up. I’ll have my cell for tracking purposes, if you have my digits.

Where can you find me?

Friday
8:00 p.m.: Kinky Friedman


Saturday
4:15 p.m.: Wesley Stace
5:30 p.m.: Sherman Alexie
7:00 p.m.: Wordsmiths Books panel* — with Baby Got Books’ Tim
8:00 p.m.: John Wesley Harding

*Not affiliated with the Decatur Book Festival, but it's happening in Decatur just around the corner from the bookish festivities.


Sunday
12:00 p.m.: Edmund White
1:00 p.m.: Hollis Gillespie and Roy Blount Jr. signings
1:15 p.m.: Karen Abbott or Robert Olen Butler
2:30 p.m.: Chuck Klosterman
3:45 p.m.: Hollis Gillespie or Peter Case
5:00 p.m.: Chuck Rosenthal + Aaron Petrovich
8:00 p.m.: Peter Case

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Cheer on My Hero

My cousin Marni — who writes the (very entertaining) blog It’s a Pug’s Life — is participating this weekend in the Atlanta Two-day Walk for Breast Cancer. She’s walking thirty miles this weekend — twenty miles on Saturday and ten miles on Sunday. And she’s raised more than $1,000 to battle breast cancer. Clap for her!

Marni is walking in memory of her grandmother, who passed away from breast cancer, and in honor of her mother and a friend, both survivors.

I’m impressed with anyone who gives up an entire weekend to walk for a cause, especially a beautiful weekend in mid-September. But Marni’s feat even more impressive. Two years ago she weighed 110 pounds more than she does today. Two years ago she could not have considered it. Yet this morning she’s taking her first steps as I write this and drink coffee on the porch (about to start the primp-and-preen routine for tonight’s date with R.E.M.).

Marni’s my hero. Head on over to her blog and congratulate her.

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A Day in the Life, Part 2: She Meets a Hero

I saw T. Coraghessan Boyle last night. Heard him. Touched him. I didn’t go all five senses on him, though, (barely) restraining myself from sniffing or licking him.

T. Coraghessan was darling. Brilliant. Much more personable and charming (and taller) than I imagined. He started out talking about writing and his background and his process. He read the first chapter of Talk Talk (and did a great job reading it; not every writer can read his words well), then answered questions (keep reading for the answers to many of those questions).

I also learned how to pronounce his name: cor-RĂG-uh-son. (Mary, practice it in front of a mirror before the next visit, okay?)

He mentioned (as Rita Mae Brown once told me) that he finds it strange that his publisher rarely includes Atlanta on his book tours. This is a short tour — originally just seven cities, now expanded to thirteen — and he requested that Atlanta be among the seven.

Invisible Lizard: He wore red Chuck Taylors with his black pants, cool black T-shirt with silk-screened fish, and light blue sports coat. And the necklace he’s wearing on the Talk Talk cover.

We then queued up on the front porch of The Dump (the apartment house in which Margaret Mitchell wrote Gone with the Wind). He signed my book, warmly shook my hand and chatted me up a bit (he chatted with every person; very cool). He loved my necklace.

The book and the necklace:


I can’t quite make out what he wrote between my name and his; I think it reads “You’re a hot little minx, aren’t you?”

My Missed Opportunity

I’m dogsitting for my sister this weekend. She was a little anxious about my getting to her place so late, so I promised her I’d be there by 9 p.m. Got in line at 8 p.m. to have my book signed, so timing was good. Or, it appears, wasn’t. Behind me was this cute farmer/artist, with long, wavy black hair and a cute personality. He chatted and flirted and blushed when he looked me in the eyes. He told me about his crops, his books, why it wasn’t raining in Marietta, his favorite breakfast spot (he’s going to keep an eye out for me, because I simply must try it), and how close his farm is to my mother’s house. I wanted (oh, God, did I want) to ask him out for a drink … but my love for my canine nephew won out, and so I left alone. And spent the rest of my evening watching that beloved dog sleep on the couch.

Because I am a writer and a student of great writing (and because I’m one huge nerd), Professor Bastard will be glad to know that I took notes during T.C.'s chat. Among the things I learned from my Authorian hero:

• He disagrees with the basic writing adage. His writing adage: Write what you don’t know, and find something out.
• He does not think deep thoughts all the time, only when he’s writing. If you see him walking down the street, he’s probably thinking “Kill. Screw. Eat.”
• He usually comes up with the title of the book first.
• He had the idea of a book about identity theft, but couldn't get started once he completed his research. Then, he had an appointment with his recently divorced dentist, who kept talking about the hot deaf woman who had been in earlier ... and Dana and the Talk Talk story were born (with a nod to the dentist in the first chapter).
• His favorite of his novels: Water Music, his first
• He completed East Is East in a cabin in the mountains ... wrote the last word ... went for a hike to relax ... couldn't ... and came back in to write a short story.
• His first two novels each took three years to write. His latest, Talk Talk, took eight months (excluding research).
• He turns in a manuscript and that's what published. A little copy editing, that's it. His editor and publisher — both of whom he's been with since college (since college!) — don't bother it. They did, however, cut Dana's novella from the end of Talk Talk; that's now running in the current McSweeney's.
• He hasn’t watch television since 1972.
• He was a history major until he read a Flannery O’Connor story in an English class. He then became a history/English major.
• While attending the Iowa Writer’s Workshop, he was taught by or became friends with Raymond Carver, John Cheever, and John Irving.
• He writes every day. After he finishes the day’s writing, he reads it aloud to his (he claims, long-suffering) wife. He loves to listen to the meter of the words as they’re spoken aloud.
• As a professor at UCLA, he teaches just 39 days out of the year.
• His favorite writers writing today include Louise Erdrich (who doesn’t love her?) and his friend Richard Ford (who will be at the Margaret Mitchell house this fall).
• He does not like genre fiction because it’s flatly written. There’s no dimension, no beauty of the language.

And, that, ladies and gentlemen, was the beautiful end to two crappy days.

UPDATE: Click here for an interesting post on T.C. Boyle.

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Mark, T.C., and Me

The bookworm part of my being is dancing and twirling with excitement right now. I have two literary events this week — one that will be fun, one that will be thrilling — both at the Margaret Mitchell House, through the Center for Southern Literature.

The Fun: Tonight I’m off to hear a talk by Mark Childress, whose latest novel, One Mississippi, was released last week. (Note to self: Pick up a copy at lunch.) I’ve been to a couple of Childress readings, so I know it will be entertaining. You might be familiar with him through Crazy in Alabama (movie sucked; book was good). My favorite is Tender, about an Elvis-type character; in fact, it was reading Tender that turned me into the Elvis fan I am today (well, that coupled with my fateful Memphis trip with Simeon during the 1991 Elvis International Tribute Week).

The Thrill: Thursday it's a reception for and talk by T. Coraghessan Boyle, who’s peddling his new book, Talk Talk.

I know he goes by T.C. these days, and I know it’s not his birth name, but I love saying "Coraghessan." I’ve often fantasized about being his girlfriend, just so I could coo "Coraghessan" in his ear. So, in my world, he’s still T. Coraghessan Boyle.

Boyle has been on my top 25 authors list since I read East Is East in 1990. He’s a publishing machine these days. Didn’t I just finish The Inner Circle? (OK, that was two years ago, but it’s still sharp in my mind; I liked it that much.) And I have yet to crack the spine on Tooth and Claw. I cannot wait to see The Man and hear The Man. I imagine him to be a witty, brilliant, eccentric smart-ass — my favorite kind of man. And I think he's kind of cute.


I hope you’re jealous.

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I Can Sleep Peacefully Tonight

I love Keef madly, so show some respect and pray for his speedy recovery ...

WELLINGTON, New Zealand (AP) — Keith Richards has been released from a New Zealand hospital where the Rolling Stones guitarist was admitted with a head injury after he reportedly fell out of a palm tree.

Richards, 62, suffered a mild concussion while on vacation in Fiji Thursday. Several Australian and New Zealand media outlets reported the fall from the tree.

New Zealand's Sunday Star-Times also reported that Richards got on a Jet Ski after the fall and had another accident.

Richards was treated in a Fiji hospital before being airlifted to Auckland's Ascot Hospital for observation. It was not immediately clear exactly when he was released or where he went afterward.

"I can categorically confirm Mr. Richards ... is no longer a patient in this hospital," hospital duty manager Geoff Sparks told The Associated Press on Tuesday. "He has been discharged."

Band spokeswoman Fran Curtis has said only that Richards was injured earlier this week and flown to New Zealand with his wife, Patti, for observation. Her statement Saturday did not comment on Richards' condition or how he was injured.

Richards and his wife were staying at the exclusive Wakaya Club resort on a small Fijian island when he was injured.

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Renae Edge, artist

Renae (my oldest friend in the world) had her first one-woman show last fall, for a series of abstract photographs she shot last summer. She (quite deservedly) continues to get a lot of attention for this series.

Renae has an online gallery. Take the time to view each series of her online portfolio. Her work is truly amazing.

This piece will be in the 57th annual Art of the Northeast juried exhibition, in New Canaan, Connecticut:

Untitled (Ribbons 50605152)

The Silvermine Guild is a well-established, well-known guild; the show was juried by Ben Barzune, who's a partner in a New York City gallery that represents the likes of Milton Avery and Helen Frankenthaler. Renae also has a piece in an upcoming show in Connecticut. Our girl has hit the big time.

Renae Edge, at her show last November

I am so damn proud of Renae! She just got back into photography about a year ago, maybe two. Her goal was to produce great work and be accepted as an artist, and it looks like she's there. Her determination and self-confidence — and, of course, her creativity and artistic vision — continue to inspire me. And her work is beautiful, amazing, unique. I have one piece hanging over my sofa, and it's my most valued piece. I hope to have a wall of Edges by the end of the year.

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Selig launches steroid investigation

CNN Breaking News: Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig announces former U.S. Senate Majority Leader George Mitchell to head probe of steroid use in baseball.

How happy I was to read that e-mail this afternoon! I hate Barry Bonds, and I hope they kick him out of the game. I can’t stand his “it’s all about me, not the team” attitude. He was cute back in his Pirates days, but he’s a bulked-up freak now. I keep watching for an arm to rip off during a homerun swing, like a Monty Python skit; wouldn’t that be cool?

It ticks me off that Bond is just six or seven homers away from breaking Babe Ruth’s record. That big fat cheater (notice how skillfully I’m using sports lingo) is getting much too close breaking to Hank Aaron’s record. And that will be a dark day for me.

Hank Aaron broke Babe’s record fair and square. He didn’t shoot himself up with a cocktail of steroids and banned substances. He played for years, he chased the record, he earned each of those 755 homeruns. And he's a good guy — he still loves the game, and he gives a lot to his community.

Hank Aaron is one of my all-time heroes. As a kid in Atlanta in 1966, you couldn’t help but love that first Atlanta Braves team: Hank Aaron and Felipe Alou, Joe Torre and Rico Carty, Eddie Mathews and Clete Boyer. Felipe Alou was my personal favorite back then, but Hammerin’ Hank was the king — and still is. (In fact, if I ever decide to buy a BMW, I’m buying it from Hank.)

Please, Mr. Selig and Mr. Mitchell, please ban Barry Bonds from baseball. Let him join Pete Rose in baseball limbo.

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