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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.

 

 

 

This police protest sign is wrong

protest signsI do not mind protesters carrying signs that say Black Lives Matter. I kind of dig the signs that say No Justice. No peace. And there was even a cleaver one that says Know Justice. Know Peace.

There is one sign that bothered me. It is one I would not carry or would want my children to carry. It said “The only good cop is a dead cop.” In other words it gave justification to kill all police officers. That’s wrong.

Despite the lack of media coverage the George Floyd protests continue across the nation. People remain angry and want justice. I do believe they have lost their focus because people are more intent on tearing down statues than tackling the real problems that face blacks.

We need to fix the educational system in the black community and provide jobs.

Let’s get back to the issue of the only good cop is a dead cop. There are bad police officers who do not value life. But we cannot lump every police officer into that category.

There is another sign that is almost as dangerous but we must understand its history. It says “The only good pig is a dead pig.”

Let’s go back in history. The Black Panther Party in Oakland ran a fowl of the law by running a cartoon that said “The only good pig is a dead pig.” Authorities assumed the group advocated killing all police officers. That was not true. The group said there are good police officers and there are bad police officers who want to stab you in the back. Those are the pigs.

I don’t believe most of society knows this. When they hear pig. They hear police. It is also a dangerous message.

I’ve seen some incredible acts of healing from the Genesee County Sheriffs Department, Detroit Police Department and Houston Police Chief Art Acevedo. And I want to introduce you to a man on the West Bloomfield Police Department we meet three years ago with the Australian accent.

My family and a few of our friends were preparing for my daughter Celine’s high school graduation party at Marsh Bank Park. This chatty police officer with an Australian accent pops up, asks how we are doing and offers to help us sweep and set up.

I did not catch his name, but he was a wonderful ambassador for the department. Would this police officer only be a good police officer if he were dead? Or was he already a good guy?

My son has been pulled over for speeding. No incident. He remembered all our talks about being pulled over and aced it. He said the officer who pulled him over was very nice.

I’ve been detained for (now don’t laugh) bank robbery. No incident.

During my radio days we went out to dinner in Royal Oak and ran into three officers after jay walking. One officer went ape shit and caused a scene. It was so bad that I refused to go to Royal Oak for a year. The two police officers with him calmed him down and were a primary reason I went back.

Do you know what pisses me off? I hated when white people lumped me into a sub human category and assumed I came into their shops and stores to steal. Now when someone holds up a sign that says “The only good pig is a dead pig” aren’t they doing the same? They are telling an already agitated crowd that every cop they run into is a bad cop.

It’s wrong.

We can do better.

Did this happen because I’m black

purse-snatcher_cp_pursesnatcher_c_display_imageLet’s play a game today.

Did this happen because I’m black?

It is a game I get to play periodically in life following real life experiences because you wonder if a person treated you differently because they thought you were going to do something wrong because you are black? Or is this the way the person would react to anyone?

Let’s play. Make up your own mind.

The wife and I stopped into a vitamin store to get Vitamin D for my daily regiment of pills. Abs asked the lone woman in the store if she had vitamin D. She said yes and got the bottle for us.

While Abs paid for the vitamins I took a lap around the store looking at the merchandise. I was in the back of the store when the transaction began. During mid transaction the woman left the counter,  closed the back door where her purse and extra supplies were stored and hustled back to the cash register.

My wife vowed to never go to the store again because she believes the woman only closed the door because she did not trust a black person near her open store room and purse.

“Did you see that,” she said as we left the store.

I told her I noticed but I was not sure of her intent.

Now was the woman being cautious and treated me like any other customer? Or did she close the door because I was black?

It is a question black people ask many times in their lives. Sometimes we are sure we witnessed racist behavior. Sometimes we are not sure. And sometimes we get it wrong.

What do you think about the incident?

You can leave your comments after this post, on Facebook or Twitter.

I am all eyes and ears.

I wear a mask to protect me and my American teammates

mask2I was walking out of an indoor establishment when I heard the following.

“Oh no. Not you too T Foss.”

The man’s name was Chad and he was upset that I wore a mask. He wanted to know why I chose to give up my civil rights and bow to the lies of the media and doctors and wear a mask. Here’s why.

First we are living during a pandemic and I want to be as safe as possible. I do not believe the media and thousands of doctors are lying to us. My question is what is the pay off for them to lie? Do they all have stock in the ads that peddle masks to us every time we log into Facebook?

I wear a mask because I believe I am doing my small part to stop the spread of this novel Corona virus. I do it for my protection and I do it for yours. I do it for my team. Team America. And you are my teammates.

I would feel terrible if I got Covid-19 and spread it to you. I also believe that I cannot afford to catch it if I want to live a long life. The anti-mask people first tried to tell us that the Corona Virus was a hoax. Then when they realized it was indeed real, then they tried to tell us it was like catching the flu.

After we found it to be more serious than the flu they tried to tell us the chances of catching it was miniscule. Now they are shaming us for wearing masks.

I do not wear a mask in my house. I do not wear a mask in my car. I do not wear a mask when I walk around the neighborhood. I did not wear a mask for my 5.5 mile walk around Union Lake.

But I do wear it in the grocery store, the drug store and when picking up carry out food from a restaurant. I probably wear my mask less than 10 percent of my life. It is a small sacrifice I am willing to make to protect me and my teammates.

People talk about the idea of giving up their rights. Don’t we do that every day? No shoes. No shirt. No service. We see that sign every day and nobody complains. Some restaurants have dress codes. We either dress to conform or we go to another restaurant.

Why are we fighting over something that can save lives?

I am not a good candidate for Covid-19. I am over 60 years old and I have preexisting conditions. I already dodged death before. I don’t want to do it again this soon. I also don’t get all of my information from the news. Some of it about Covid comes from real life experiences.

When they say the disease has rumbled through the black community like wild fire, those are not lies. Between my wife and me when know of at least 10 people who have died from the virus. That’s a lot.

Even President Donald Trump says it is a good idea to wear a mask even though he does not wear one in public.

The anti-masks people spread the false narrative that wearing a mask causes hypercapnia or carbon dioxide poisoning. If that were the case how come there has not been an epidemic of surgeons dying. They often perform surgeries lasting for hours.

A number of doctors have debunked this, including childhood cancer researcher Victoria Forster who wrote in a blog for Forbes that Co2 poisoning does not occur while wearing a mask.

Then they point out that a number of doctors and nurses get sick while fighting the virus in hospitals. I never said masks were 100 percent. You reduce your chances of getting sick. And I don’t plan on hanging out in the lobby of Receiving Hospital any time soon. When you are on the front lines of a war there are going to be casualties no matter how careful you are.

A mask can be uncomfortable in the heat. It can cause acne. And it can cause discomfort around the ears if you wear it too long.

Those are sacrifices I am willing to make for me and my teammates.

 

Rob and Bob helped me recover

Rob-Parker-Headshot_727x727wojoRob and Bob.

Those are two names I will remember most when a stroke struck me down almost four years ago.

They were the two people outside of family who checked on me most. They are the two names who wanted to know how I was feeling and what did I need from them to make things better.

Rob and Bob are Rob Parker and Bob Wojnowski.

They called, they texted, they private messaged. Every time they did it helped in my recovery.

I used to be the exact opposite. If somebody became ill I thought the best for them was peace and quiet from friends. They needed rest and they needed to be free from outside distractions.

I changed my mindset after spending eight days in the hospital. I needed friends. I needed to hear that somebody cared when I was at my lowest. Sometimes people need people.

I have worked with Wojo at three locations. The Detroit News, WDFN and 97.1 The Ticket. We’d share appetizers, gin and tonics and beer at Bar Louie’s in Novi. I met Rob while covering the NBA. I also worked with him at WDFN and The Detroit News. I always told people he was a good guy although many of you did not believe me.

I also appreciated the well wishes from my friends on Facebook and other social media platforms. I appreciate the hard work and love from my wife Abs who became my patient advocate.

Even the evil people stayed away for a while. Then I made the mistake of writing during my recovery that I could not afford to have another stroke. If I did I would either die or be paralyzed for life.

That provided an opening for the miserable people. Mixed inside the well wishes were mean messages.

“Well I hope you have another stroke.”

“I know what I’m hoping for now. Just one more time.”

Now I can brush it aside as miserable people being miserable. At the time it cut to the core and hurt me deeply.

Then I would hear from Rob or Bob. And everything was OK again.

Thank you my friends.

Something unknown guides our lives

 There is something besides mankind that guides us and talks to us. I’ve had a number of intuitions in my life that seem hard to believe.  Let me give you one.

Gretchen was one of my best friends in college. We worked together on the student newspaper and we both thought we’d wind up as sports editor and assistant sports editor on CM Life. We didn’t care who got the top job or played second fiddle. We just wanted to work together. It did not work out.

Somebody else got the jobs.

I also knew of a hard working young man named Drew. I knew Gretchen. And I knew Drew. But I did not know Gretchen and Drew.

They became a couple and married shortly after college.

A year after graduation Gretchen and Drew lived in a house off a corn field in Freeland, a stone’s throw away from Gretchen’s home town of Saginaw.

she worked at The Saginaw News. I lived in Grand Rapids because of my first job at the Grand Rapids Press.

I had not seen my friends in a while. So they invited me to visit one fall weekend. I accepted and woke up Friday morning for my cross state trip to Freeland.

Everything was calm. Everything was normal as I drove east on I-96 toward my Lansing turnoff to head north and east toward Saginaw. That’s when I broke into a cold sweat and something told me to head to Detroit. I needed to see my grandmother. And I needed to see her right away.

It didn’t make sense because I was scheduled to go home the following weekend. But I needed to see her. I don’t know why. It got so bad that I began to shake in the car and broke into a cold sweat.

I had to head home. As I got closer to the Lansing turn off on I-69 the voices inside my head grew louder and my urge to go home turned into a pulsating drum beat. I was now growing ill.

I did not drive home that day. I promised my friends I’d show up. And a promise is a promise. After I turned north to Saginaw everything returned to normal. No urges. No shaking. No cold sweats.

Drew threw something on the grill that night and we ate like kings. We also hung out in Saginaw, Midland and Bay City. I returned to Grand Rapids Sunday night.

The NFL was on strike. The next night the newspaper sent me into the community to get local fan reaction of what going a few weeks without the Detroit Lions and Chicago Bears would be like. After my interviews I returned to the newspaper office to write my story.

Sports editor Bob Becker intercepted me before I could sit down. I could tell by the look on his face that he had bad news for me.

My grandmother and Aunt went grocery shopping to make sure the refrigerator was stocked with my favorite foods for my trip home next weekend. Granny was exhausted from the trip. While my aunt unloaded the car, grand mom sat in the chair to rest.

She suffered a stroke and died.

Becker told me the story and I was devastated. This was the woman who raised me. This was my girl and I did not get to say good bye. I felt a combination of grief and guilt. Something told me on the highway that I needed to go home to see her. I just didn’t know why.

Instead I visited my friends. Four decades later I still feel bad about that decision.

 

I want a non talking dog

doggieI want a dog.

There is one problem. My wife Abs has dog nose. And its scary.

She can smell everything. And the smell of a dog is so intense that it bothers her. For instance she can walk in a house and immediately tell if a dog or cat lives there with one sniff.

One evening we sat at a red light. She turned to me and asked if I’d been smoking in the car. She smelled smoke. I reminder her that I don’t smoke.

Our windows were rolled up. The windows of the car next to us were rolled up, but the driver was smoking. She could smell it. That’s a little scary.

A few weeks ago there was a little melting on the dog issue. She said I might be able to get one if I took care of it.

I don’t know what kind of dog I want. I just want a dog that is friendly, wags its tail and licks your face. I want a dog that doesn’t shit and piss all over the house.

I’ve only had one dog my entire life — a French poodle named Bo Bo when I was a kid. We never cut the dogs hair so it never got that French poodle look. Nobody knew what kind of dog it was and they called me a liar when I said it was a French poodle.

One more thing. The dog can’t talk. I hate talking dogs on commercials. The talking dog on the Bush’s bean commercial drives me crazy. I hate that dog.

I hate dogs that sing, rap. I hate dogs trying to sell you something.

One day I was playing with Bo Bo and he said: “Je m’appelle Bo Bo.”

I was shocked. “Bo Bo did you just talk?”

“No monsieur,” he said.

I got rid of the dog. Not because he talked.

I don’t like liars.

 

Covid still kicking so stay away from me

masksMaybe it’s time for me to go back into the bubble. This young whipper snapper Covid has me worried.

So does society. I need to stay away from people because we are failing to act right. You see too many people who believe a network of doctors and media members are lying about this pandemic that is sweeping the world.

They are tired of being holed up in the house and are acting irresponsibly in public now that they are getting their freedom back.

How this turned into a political issue is beyond me. The Republicans are going to hold their convention in Florida like nothing has happened. The Grand Old Party goes on. President Donald Trump will lead everyone in song, dance and lies.

Meanwhile, the Democrats are telling delegates to stay home. Do not go to Milwaukee. Presidential hopeful Joe Biden will speak to a mostly empty room as he’s done the past few weeks from his basement while wearing pajama bottoms and those cute bunny rabbit house shoes.

It looks like a battle between Sleepy Joe and Dumb Donald.

I am worried about my own health. I am above the age of 60 with preexisting conditions. I might not be much of a match if I had to battle Covid. That’s why I’m going back into the bubble. You won’t see me in a bar. You won’t see me in a restaurant unless I am getting carry out for the family.

As of Wednesday 68,555 people have caught the virus in Michigan while 6,114 people have died. Those numbers stabilized for a bit while Gov. Gretchen Whitmer issued a stay at home order. Now those numbers are beginning to rise again as we venture around town without a care in the world.

You might see me at the grocery store wearing a mask or face covering. Speaking of masks, why are people so dead set against wearing them? People are saying masks are killing people when they actually provide protection.. Scottsdale, Az. Councilman Guy Phillips spoke at an anti-mask rally while wearing a mask.

“I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe,” he told the crowd.

Then he took his mask off and talked about how much better life is to rousing cheers.

A number of counties in Florida are being sued for issuing masks mandates.

I run into two sets of people — at a safe social distance of course.

One group of people follow the lead of Trump and say all this is fake news and a hoax.  White House Health advisor Anthony Fauci is getting paid for spreading fear. Don’t believe what you are seeing on television. And don’t believe the doctors.

Then there is the other extreme. If I leave the house I will turn into a pillar of salt and die a horrible death.

There has got to be a sensible solution in the middle.

You see people barging into stores without masks and shoving the poor employee whose job is to make sure everybody wears a mask, not only for your protection but for others.

I’ve seen people gather for no reason other than to say this is all a hoax while butchering the English language.

“I ain’t got no Covid.”

They were young people of course. Our youth are the most dangerous creatures on Earth right now. They believe they can get Covid and show no symptoms. They can shrug it off and be fine. But they can also give it to me and I won’t be so lucky.

So if you are young stay the fuck away from me.

I’ll call the police.

I ain’t got no Covid. And I want to keep it that way.

Blacks need better schools, not toppled statues

confederate statueStop tearing down the statues.

Protesters around the world are jumping the shark and have been distracted from the original point of these demonstrations following the death of George Floyd. I thought the idea was to rid our world of racism and hate and division.

You don’t do that by tearing down a Confederate statue.

I do believe in The Black Lives Matter movement. However, the group has been hijacked by out of control young people who don’t know enough about our history and don’t understand what black folks really need in order to overcome.

Black people don’t need Confederate statues dunked in rivers or torn from their base.

Black people need better schools, better jobs and hope. They need to feel like they’ve got a fair shot in life.

People scream that black lives matter. But do they really believe it? Or is it the cool thing to say these days?

I’ve hungered for equal rights for every person in this country for years. I foolishly believed we had a chance when the nation began protesting the Floyd murder at the knee of a Minneapolis cop.

The movement was swift and grand and ongoing. White people were even protesting. Even Republicans were appalled. And then the movement got hijacked by evil, greed and stupidity.

When people began looting stores it turned off a bunch of people who could actually help make change in this country. They turned from cheerleaders into non supporters. Now I see why Dr. Martin Luther King believed the best way to make change was through non violence.

I thought that when this was all said and done we’d see a pathway toward blacks gaining more freedom in this country. I thought we’d see legislation that makes it more difficult for police to murder unarmed blacks.

I thought we’d see a path blazed for better education and schools for blacks. I saw hope. Now I am seeing it die because of distractions that took us off that pathway.

I hate many of the Confederate statues that are being defaced and torn down. However, a part of me says leave them up. We need to be reminded of this country’s racist past.

These protesters have stepped outside the scoop of the Confederacy. Yes, George Washington owned 150 slaves, but he also fought to abolish slavery and there might not be a United States of America if not for his leadership on the battle field.

How do you tear down Abraham Lincoln who freed the slaves? And in the United Kingdom they want to remove the statue of Mahatma Gandhi, who Dr. King patterned much of his civil rights movement after.

We can tear down these relics of the past after this country fixes real problems.

Blacks need better schools, better housing, jobs and hope. You don’t obtain any of that by tearing down statues. Let’s get focused America.

 

 

Momma passing the torch to daughter: Same ol’ Lions

MARTHA-FORD-SELL-THE-TEAM-ROYAL-SHIRTNews that the Detroit Lions leadership has been passed from Martha Ford to her daughter Sheila Ford Hamp has been completely overblown.

It would be bigger news if the Lions announce that a different mentality was in the works. That someone who didn’t have the last name of Ford was taking over. This isn’t what folks were talking about when they fashioned T-shirts asking Martha Ford to sell the team.

Martha Ford learned from her husband William Clay Ford. Sheila learned at the knee of Martha Ford. That does not spell good news for starving Lions fans who have celebrated one playoff win since 1957 and is the only original NFL team never to have made a Super Bowl.

I had hope for Martha Ford as an owner. She has more fire than her husband did. She is more prone to shake things up than he is. However, she lost me when she decided to retain coach Matt Patricia and General Manager Bob Quinn after a dismal 9-22-1 run.

It was the letter that turned me off. She did not issue a must win edict as many in the media would want you to believe. She said she expected this team to be in playoff contention in December.

You do know that teams hovering around and below .500 are playoff contenders in December.

That’s not must win. She told Lions fans that she’d be content with the Lions returning to mediocrity. Quinn said 9-7 was not good enough when he fired coach Jim Caldwell. Martha Ford told us that 7-9 is good enough. Detroit fans deserve better.

It would have been news if the Lions told us that Martha Ford sold the team to Dan Gilbert or another person with deep pockets and a better vision.

I could only think of three words when I heard that the torch is being passed from mother to daughter.

Same ol’ Lions.