Wolves

The thieves, they broke into my car. They went rummaging around the car, these thieves, and they made off with my cassette tapes.

They took the whole shoebox full of tapes.

And this, on the surface, really wouldn't seem to be the end of the world. It's not the worst thing to happen to a person. They were only cassette tapes, and many were dubs of albums in my collection.

Some were mixed tapes made by friends, and it's sad to lose them, but they are friends, and they will make more mixed tapes for me. They are friends. That's what they do. They make mixed tapes to show their affection for me. And they do other things to show affection as well. They make dinner, sometimes. They watch the cat while I'm away. They watch me drink myself to sleep without an unkind word.

They do all of that stuff. So, I don't sweat the mixed tapes. Not really.

I do, though, sweat something.

It's a demo. It's a tape I have had for a while. And I don't know where to find another.

Let me tell you a story.

Once, a boy was travelling with his family. He was heading north. He was flying in a plane.

The plane crashed. Everyone but the boy died. The boy survived, and crawled from the wreckage.

I should mention that the boy was a baby. I didn't mention that, but it's important that I mention that. He was a baby. A baby who could crawl.

See, then what happened was that the baby was found by a kindly wolfpack, and a kindly wolfmother raised him! No, seriously! This is really what happened. The boy was raised by kindly wolves!

The wolves made their homes in the body of the airplane. They ate the parents and the pilot, and the boy ate right along with them. The boy lived with the wolves.

In the plane, he found a tape player. It was a tape player with a hand-crank. Do you remember hand-cranked tape players? I do.

On the plane, the boy found tapes. The boy listened to the tapes when he figured out how to use the tape player. And he loved the music he heard.

There were Biz Markie tapes. And Stetsasonic tapes. And Boogie Down Production tapes. And Sugarhill Gang tapes. And Spoonie G. And Doug E. Fresh and the Get Fresh Crew. And DJ Red Alert. And Schooly D. Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.

The boy listened, and he loved, and he learned to speak.

And he spoke in rhyme, all the time.

The wolves did not know what he was saying. But the boy, night and day, spit rhymes at the wolves.

And he got older. And he was, one day, found. He was returned to civilization. He was brought to the states, and studied, and cared for. And given new tapes.

And he was recorded. He made a demo tape. He was MC Raised by Wolves. MC Raised by Wolves made one demo.

Then, he disappeared. Most agree that this was for the best. He was a furiously clever MC, but he was also a very dangerous one. No one knew what to expect from him, because he was MC Raised by Wolves, and he had been raised by wolves.

The demo disappeared quickly, too, just like MC Raised by Wolves.

I had a copy, though. One dubbed copy. I can't tell you where I got it. I just had it. And let's leave it at that.

Now, it's gone. It was stolen.

Can you help me? Do you have a copy of the demo tape by MC Raised by Wolves? Have you seen MC Raised by Wolves?

No, really? Have you? Can you help me track down a new copy?

Comment here if you can help. Let's find this tape.

I can't blog until I do.

Come on, readers. Let's go. I have a space all ready for him. Do you have photos of MC Raised by Wolves? I'd like to see those, too.