Jarod Foster

Seeing as to how I was born on St. Patrick’s day, I have always felt as though drinking and raising
hell were my birth right. As a child I watched my mother and stepfather Lisa and Bill Tallant cutting
loose with their friends while living in Wurzburg Germany in the late ‘80’s and early ’90’s. I also learned
how to fight as a young child living in a foreign country. My first day in Germany I remember my older
brother Jason had asked to go down to the play ground and play, well, I wanted to go as well, but in the
time it took for me to put my shoes on and have my mother tie my shoe laces (I was 5) my older brother
had already been jumped by these three local kids for being on there turf, and I was soon to follow. It
didn’t take long to learn that we were not welcome. We spent the next 4 years of our life watching
each others backs and fighting any time we saw necessary. We had knives pulled on us, German kids
dogs attack us, hit with skate boards and it never seemed as though you fought one on one. We were
also introduced to beer at an early age seeing it sold in every vending machine right below the 7up and
Cokes and able to be purchased by anybody, oh yeah, we would partake. My brother and I watched the
Berlin Wall fall and prayed we would be able to go back to America soon.

In the summer of 1992, we moved in with our father Corey Foster. This was a much different lifestyle
than we had become accustomed to. Hard working blue collar values and the concept of family was
embedded in us. We would wake up around 4 in the morning on the days we didn’t have school or
athletic events to help our Father, Uncles and cousins roof houses, frame houses or anything it took to
help pay the bills. We were probably given more freedom in our early high school years than we should
have. I can remember going to my cousins’ friends’ house and getting wasted on absolute vodka and
marijuana, just to have to wake up the next morning (if we had even been asleep at all) and get on a
roof with no sympathy from what happened the night before. Soon I was off to College; I had joined the
Delta Chi fraternity and started drinking, playing music and finding out what women were all about. My
freshman year I met Wayne Mills and started playing in the local Honky Tonks and making my name in
them. One thing lead to another over the years, I had great jobs after college, a great house and a great
life, but something was always missing. I had to be in the bars on the stage playing my music feeling the
crowd and pouring on the booze. I had met people such as Jamey Johnson Randy Boudreaux and Curt
Brewer through my travels with The Wayne Mills Band and they had convinced me that I should move
to Nashville T.N. and try to take my music to the next level. After the move to Nashville I had to learn
real quick that I wasn’t as good as I thought I was, and it was either pack up and move home or learn to
develop my talents and fight a different way. It became a life of burning your candle at both ends and
praying you don’t kill yourself or somebody else. After being taken for more than $20,000 on my own
endeavors of trying to make it in the music business from so called producers and managers, I thought I
would give somebody else a shot at taking my career to the next level. In 2008 I had met Jenn Shelburne
and later she introduced me to Zach Corn, and I had found a new kind of family. And this story, I pray,
is far from over!! Keep your ears on the track and your back doors clean, and we’ll catch you around the
bend!