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Boombayey Podcast # 2

Welcome to the second episode of Boombayey Podcast  with Terry Foster. Joining Terry for this show is Ryan, E.Lund, and special guests Rhonda Moss, and Rico Beard.

Segment 1: Too hot for radio storytime with Terry.  Why are you not watching ESPN? Do  play by play crews add anything to the game?

Segment 2: Michigan and MSU seasons so far and where they’re headed.

Bonus segment: Mt. Rushmore of professional wrestling

Another podcast coming Thursday!

 

 

 

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Welcome to my new blog and pod cast

Hello again.

My name is Terry Foster and I am the guy that used to write for the news paper in Detroit and did sports talk radio.

My life was on a roll until I suffered a stroke last year and my life has changed. I blame myself for not monitoring my blood pressure better. A doctor has since told me that I may have been dealt a bad set of veins inside my brain and they were ticking time bombs ready to clog up.

I was lucky. The veins became sluggish, but not clogged. So I lived another day.

I am a new man and I want to share my thoughts with old friends in this blog and through podcasting. I will talk about my new life, my old life, Detroit sports, or whatever else crosses my mind. It will be personal at times. And I will rap on real life and real issues.

In other words I want to be a voice, no matter how small it may be now.

I also need your help. I want to pay the people helping me and donate to charities I’ve worked with.  Heart to Hart passes out food, blankets, clothing and personal items to the homeless while the Enchanted Barn saves and houses mistreated animals and has inner city kids come out and  learn to take care of them.

My pal Melissa runs the Enchanted Barn and needs our help.

I got involved with Heart to Hart after seeing people huddle near steam pipes on cold winter days after leaving Lion games at night. My heart sank seeing this.

Selfishly I still want to get my word out and entertain even though I am retired. And why not tryet to help those that help others?

I will continue my blog also. I plan to peck out a few words that I hope entertain you, and move you to action, tears or laughter. If you don’t care what I have to say I won’t be offended. Move on. Nothing to see here.

I will try to help you lose weight.

I will try to help you get healthy.

And I will do the impossible. I will try to get you to understand the Detroit Lions.

And I will eventually pick up a note pad and try to break a story or two. I need to talk to my league people first.

I hope you enjoy. I do believe there is room to praise me or rip me. Go ahead. We are friends.

I will not comment about Donald Trump because pro Trump and anti Trump people are like roaches. They never go away and they keep barking the same nonsense for weeks at a time.

How am I feeling since quitting radio? Good but not great. Doctors say I won’t fully recover until the fall. But I no longer get evening headaches and am not exhausted at the end of the day.

Thanks for dropping by. I hope you return again.

 

 

 

Featured post

Social distancing is boring

empty barIt’s Friday night in the big city.

And I’m bored stiff. I want out of the house. I want to hoist a beer, tell a joke and hug a friend. But I cannot. Every bar and restaurant is closed. And even if they weren’t I’d remain home.

There are two new words in our lives. Social distancing.

Staying in is the right thing now for society. Social distancing is pure anguish for me, but it is what we must all do. We must do our part to make this corona virus pandemic go away as quickly as possible.

I never knew how much I needed outlets until spending most of the last seven days in the house. I want to go to a movie. I want to go to Willson’s Pub and I want to go to Mexico Lindo for a margarita.

I want to window shop at 12 Oaks, check out the new streets and shops on the Avenue of Fashion. And why not? How about a quick trip downriver?

I want to tip my friends in the restaurant business who have gotten very few hours the past week. They can’t get unemployment because they remain employed. They are simply earning zero hours.

We don’t want our young people congregating for fear of spreading the disease to older people who are more likely to die. I don’t want the Corona virus because I am one of those old people.

My family became upset because I left the house for my monthly oat meal run at Trader Joe’s in Bloomfield Hills. But I didn’t even get to stock up on oat meal because the line to get in the store was 30-40 people deep.

My guess is they don’t want too many people in the store at the same time.

There goes those words again. Social distancing.

I am not a social distance person. I am a hugger and shit talker. I love to smile and am learning how to laugh again.

I can’t wait for that first Blue Moon, that next joke and that next laugh in a crowded place.

I am a social guy, not a social distancing guy.

 

 

Corona Virus freedom restrictions could cause military state

Close-up photo of US marine with his rifleWe held the Last Supper this afternoon at Red Coat Tavern in West Bloomfield.

It was the final meal the men would have together until Gov. Gretchen Whitmer’s  3 p.m. shut down of full service in thousands of restaurants across the state of Michigan.

One of the men at the last Supper was a military man who was called into active service earlier in the day.  He predicted that the worst is about to hit us. It won’t be because of the corona virus. The worst is about to come because of bad human behavior.

He wasn’t called to active duty because something exploded in Iran or Iraq. He was called to active duty to police you and me.

The government is anticipating people becoming antsy and unruly because of the freedoms that are about to be taken away from us. He predicts 8 p.m. curfews and other restrictions that will send our citizens over the edge.

Afterall we don’t want to become another Italy, Iran or China.

That is why he was summoned for active duty and must go away for some quick training.

The shit is about to hit the fan.

Here is how these things usually work. Somebody will be out in the streets after curfew. A military person will remind the person of the curfew and demand they go home. The person will refuse and a subsequent melt down results in confrontation.

Our rights are being taken away because of the corona virus. Restaurants and bars are closing. Games are off the air. This all means people can’t stop in their local watering hole for a burger and beer while watching a basketball or baseball game.

Soon you must hustle home from work to be home at a certain time.

The government has already stressed the importance of a new term called social distancing where we must remain six feet from one another in a restaurant that cannot be 50 percent occupied or an event that cannot exceed 50 or 250 people.

We are being told that these new rules must be strictly enforced to stop the spread of corona virus. Everybody is not buying in, which is going to cause problems between the public and authorities.

Brace yourselves. It won’t be the corona virus that gets you. It will be other people. It will be like the Walking Dead. We are no longer fearful of the walkers. It’s the living and breathing human beings that are scary.

 

Brown, Sweet and Delicious

7up cakeWhen I was a good boy Mother Dear — my grandmother — would make me 7 Up cake, fried apple pie or peach cobbler.

They were so delicious. And I often long for those days of excellent treats  that danced off your taste buds.

On Thursday’s a local baker brings in slices of 7 Up cake and sell them for $3 a slice at my barber shop. I’d grab one every so often. It was good, but it was not Mother Dear good.

My pal Melissa knows about my love of 7 Up cake and whipped one up for my 61st birthday. It was not good. It was Mother Dear good.

She even made a Vernors cake, something my grand mother was afraid to bake because she didn’t know how it would turn out. This was also Mother Dear good.

It was so delicious that I gave a slice to my son B, who was having a bad day. It not only filled his belly, but put the boy in a good mood. Now that is good eating.

I thrive in life to be like Melissa’s 7 Up cake. Brown, sweet and delicious. I’m sure I fail at that, but you can’t blame a guy for trying.

Melissa is not a baker by trade. She saves animals and her story needs to be told. We are meeting soon to bring her aboard the NRM Streamcast family where she’d present her own animal rescue podcast.

This woman saves dogs, goats, horses, pigs and llamas. The only thing I’m disappointed in is she has yet to save a moose, which is my favorite animal that I have yet to see in the wild.

I want to help with the podcast in any way I can. How does a single mom run a farm, organize dozens of volunteers and battle haters while not pulling out her hair? We will find that out on the podcast and learn how Melissa helped save a 400-pound pig stuck in a basement in Detroit, takes trips to Thailand to help with their rescue efforts and still manages to have fun.

I can’t wait to see her podcast up and running. And maybe she will even teach us how to make 7 Up cake.

Love means staying away from those you love

I love to play around with my family members and tell them how much they don’t love me.

My daughter, who is in California, was on the other line when my son handed me the phone. She’s decided to stay at Stanford University, despite the school shutting down for three weeks.

The school reported its first case of the Coronavirus and Celine suspects other students are infected but don’t know it. She could be one of those students, although she is showing no signs of the virus.

Celine thought of returning home because the original game plan was to shut the school down for the remainder of this semester and for the spring quarter also. That’s all changed now.

She is remaining in California and not returning home.

I gave her my sad face on Face Time and said: “I know why you don’t want to come home. Its because you don’t love me and want to stay as far away from me as possible.”

Celine then rolled her eyes.

“Hey goof,” she said. “I don’t want to come home because I do love you. I’d feel terrible if I got you sick.”

Smart move.

If she came home I’d vow to stay away. But I couldn’t resist giving her a hug or playing with her ears, cheeks and chin. If she had the virus I’d catch it too.

Although I feel stronger than I did a few months ago while recovering from a stroke, the family is very concerned because of my age (61) and past health issues.

Maybe everybody feels that way because they do love me.

 

 

Corona virus hits close to home

corona virusMy daughter Celine is concerned. So am I.

Stanford University is shutting down because a health care worker tested positive for the Corona Virus. There are no more classes for the rest of the school year. Celine wants off campus and we want her off campus also.

What’s the point of staying? You can do online classes anywhere, including at home.

There is a risk, however. What if she has the disease? There are no signs, but often 20-year-olds don’t show outward signs. But if she has it and passes it along to me there could be complications because of my age.

It is a risk I am willing to take. I am confident she does not have Corona virus. Whether she has it or not we are going to quarantine her to the basement. I won’t be allowed down in my sanctuary and that’s ok.

The World Health Organization just called Corona virus a pandemic, which is a serious distinction. But I believe the subtle changes in my life will keep me and my family safe.

We already cancelled a trip to Florida for spring break.

I sometimes forget and still shake hands with friends. But I sprinkle that in with fist bumps, elbow taps and happy fingers in the air.

My wife Abs thinks about it every single moment of the day. I don’t.

I refuse to hoard hand sanitizer and toilet paper or wear a mask. And I am not giving up my daily trips to the gym.

I plan to show up for Tigers Opening Day. I am getting some corned beef on St. Patrick’s Day and I plan on attending sporting events.

This disease has spread all over the world and recently we received out first positive tests in Wayne and Oakland Counties. It is near, but I am confident of staying Corona Virus free.

I wash my hands with warm soap and water. I avoid people who cough or have snot running down their noses. And if I show any signs of fever or the flu I will let you know and stay in the house for at least two weeks.

Has there been overreaction in the media? Yes. But this is a necessary overreaction. We know the Boogie Man is coming and it is up to the government and the media to let us know something is lurking even if we can’t see it yet.

I want to hug my daughter when she comes home. But to be safe I will greet her with happy fingers in the air.

 

 

We must investigate why Art Van is closing

ArtVanLogoHow in the hell does Art Van close?

Everybody in the state of Michigan has several pieces of Art Van furniture in their home. And it was probably purchased during one of the company’s zany sales.

“Hey folks hurry on down to Art Van for our one day President’s Day sale. Everything must go”

“Hey Detroit. We are having a post day President’s Day sale. But it only last a short time. So you’d better hurry down to Art Van.”

“In case you missed our President’s Day sale or post President’s Day sale we are having a one day Feb. 1 sale. But hurry. It only last one day.”

“Hey lovers. It’s Valentine’s Day. Come to Art Van for our Valentine’s Day sale.”

“Hey Metro Detroit. We bought too much inventory. Come on down to Art Van for our over inventory sale. We must clear the ware house immediately.”

The sales kept on rolling. There was also the Fourth of July sale, Back to school sale, Labor Day sale, Memorial Day sale and the Let’s just have a sale for the heck of it sale.”

Art Van is a Detroit institution. The only thing I didn’t like about it was how sales people pounced on you when you walked in the store. Can’t you let me breathe a little bit?

I had another one-time issue with Art Van. When I was younger I wanted to upgrade the furniture in my two bedroom apartment. I went to the Art Van store on 14 mile and per usual a sales person pounced on me.

I told them I was looking for a bedroom set. They walked me past all this beautiful furniture into a back room where I swear the dressers were made of paper and cardboard.

I made a snide remark, saying that I lived in a two bedroom apartment, not on the streets where this furniture belonged. I walked out, went to Gardner-White and told the sales person he was about to make the easiest sale of his career.

Art Van was rolling so well that its owner once bought a house that was so big that it sunk into the ground. Then a private equity company buys it and sinks the business into the ground.

Something is fishy and my hope is that a team of reporters from The Detroit News and Detroit Free Press are launching an investigation into what really happened to Art Van.

Art Van has launched its final liquidation sale. I hope that sale is followed by the Just kidding knuckleheads. Did ya really think we were going out of business sale.

My son is Westward bound

wmuI am a proud graduate of Central Michigan University. The school provided the base for me to enjoy a long and productive career in journalism and communication.

People there rooted for my every step from novice reporter at The Detroit Free Press to veteran Pistons beat writer and columnist at The Detroit News. The school also provided me with the means to pursue a career in radio.

I am even in the CMU journalism Hall of Fame and take a peak at my plaque every time I visit the journalism department at the student newspaper CM Life.

Even when I retired folks in the journalism department wanted to make sure I was doing fine. I love CMU  because the school did right by me.

With that said my son Brandon will attend CMU’s biggest rival in athletics and academics — Western Michigan University. And he will do it with my blessings.

I wanted him to be a Chippewas, but I could not in good conscious fight for my school when I saw the joy in his eyes while walking the WMU campus. Brandon is not interested in journalism or communications. He wants to study business.

The Haworth College of Business at WMU is a beautiful new building equipped with the latest technology, study halls and facilities where the boy could spend the entire day there before retiring to the dorm

It is also more important for him to study and live on a campus with more diversity. And the final selling point for him was his stomach. He absolutely fell in love with Western’s new dining facility and all the food options available to him.

CMU fit me like a glove. I am hoping the same happens for my son at Western.

The irony of this is my pal Jennifer Hammond is a proud Bronco, but her son went to CMU because it was a better fit for him.

We are rivals, but we are not bitter rivals. Probably the drunkest a Western student became during their four years was in Mt. Pleasant during Western-Central weekend. And I know a number of Chippewas who got shit faced with Broncos in Kalamazoo.

We don’t cheer when Western is losing a football game unless it is against dear old CMU.

I visited WMU in full Central gear and was treated like a king for the weekend.

I know some of my CMU pals will be disappointed that my son has my blessing to go to Western. However, the most important thing for my son is to find the best fit for him.

Blood is thicker than water.

Drugs and crime claim another victim

crack headA few weeks ago a man stormed into my barber shop and threatened one of the barbers. He was a former basketball player who let drugs get the best of him. He also suffered from mental problems and had no business roaming the streets.

I wondered if he’d come storming back into the shop and shoot the place up. I won’t have to worry about that in the future because a few days after his outburst he was found dead from a bullet in his head a few blocks away.

The case remains unsolved although police questioned the barbers, wondering if they knew who might have killed this guy. The speculation is he yelled at the wrong person and was murdered.

Another person who badly needed mental help is dead. Nobody knows what his final days or hours were like. They simply know he needed to be in a mental institution. His family tried to get him help, but as soon as they admitted him in a facility he snuck out the back door back into the streets that claimed him.

It is a shame. Although I only witnessed the angry side of this man I felt for him.

A bullet killed him but drugs played as a big a role in his death. If drugs didn’t put him in an out of control state maybe he doesn’t piss off his killer. Maybe he is not roaming the streets in 30 degree weather. Maybe he is somewhere enjoying a home cooked meal.

There are too men and women roaming the streets of Detroit who need mental help and assistance to get off drugs. The streets will eventually claim them.

No one knows about them. Nobody cares about them.

Roger Maris hit 61 home runs. I just hit 61

Roger-MarisNew York Yankee right fielder Roger Maris hit 61 (home runs) in 1961.

I hit 61 today. My 61’s are not home runs. My 61’s are chapters in my life.

Most years I hid my birthdays from friends. There was no reason for it. It is just something I did. I did not want anybody fussing over me.

Today, I don’t mind telling the world because birthdays mean much more to me because every day I live from now on was not promised.

More than three years ago I suffered two strokes and two seizures that me feel weaker, more vulnerable and more emotional about life. After those serious bouts of poor health I changed the way I live.

I thought I was untouchable because I felt so good.

I was not a member of the untouchables. I discovered the path to better health centers around what you put in your mouth. I eat more grilled fish, chicken and vegetables.

I enjoy my cheat days. For instance I enjoyed my first Red Coat burger today in 10 years. I plan on visiting Union Woodshop in Clarkston before the weekend finishes. I drink a lot of water, but I still drink a little beer.

I did not exercise today, but on Thursday I will be back to my twice weekly classes of body pump at the West Bloomfield Power House gym. And later this week I will visit my pals at Planet Fitness for less structured workouts.

However, there is another baseball number I must remember.

3.

Doctors have told me that if I suffer a third stroke that I won’t be so lucky. That could be the end of me or I would probably live the rest of my life as a vegetable. I don’t plan on that happening.

That’s why I eat differently, work out, visit the doctor and take my medication.

I mentioned shortly after I became ill that a third stroke would likely kill me. I heard from a few dick heads who said they were hoping for one more stroke.  It really bothered me at the time because I was still in a fog from my illnesses.

I know I was a public figure. But why would someone say that? Why would someone wish the worst for me or anybody else? It hurt me and made me angry.

Today I have a new attitude. If that is what you wish then fuck you.

People often ask how I am feeling.

Not the same.

My balance is good. But not the same.

My speech is good. But not the same.

Sometimes my blood pressure spikes when I do too much and it scares me. However, doctors warn me about lounging around too much. It could lead to depression.

A stroke is an attack on the brain. Most of my issues are mental. For instance doctors want me to do things that make me happy. Volunteering for a communication class with the Detroit Police Athletic League makes me happy. So does dinner with my friends.

My family makes me happy. Writing this blog and doing podcasts makes me happy.

Going to the Detroit Tigers opening day makes me happy. Hope to see you there.

Physically I am doing well. Mentally it is a struggle many days not to fall into the trap of isolating myself from the world. One of my doctors said it is the worst thing I could do. I cannot give up on life.

I will not give up on life.

I’m certainly not giving up at 61.

 

 

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