Black Flag - Cuban Club, Tampa, FL, January 24th,1986

01-24-86 TAMPA FL: We’re playing at this outdoor place called the Cuban Club. This will be our third time here. This is a pretty hairy neighborhood. The closest food place is a 7-Eleven about half mile down the road. On the way to the 7-Eleven there’s a long stretch of project housing. One time, Davo and I went to the store to get coffee for the crew and when we came out, these black guys were outside talking and I can remember one of them saying, “You know me, I’ll drag them out into the woods and kill the motherfuckin’ crackers.” We got the fuck out of there.   It’s only 7:22 p.m. and it’s getting pretty cold. By the time we go on, it should be even colder. My right knee is in pain all the time now. It forces me to limp. Climbing stairs is very painful. I had it operated on in 1982 and the pain has been off and on since then. Doesn’t hurt when I play though. Nothing does. Afterwards is a much different story. After shows, pounding headaches, right wrist and knee ache plus my left thumb is still broken a bit from dealing on that guy in Kansas City last October.   I hardly talk to any one of the people on tour. I think they are all great. I have no problems with any of them. Greg does not like me much At least he told me. I can respect that. It makes playing kind of strange sometimes though. Makes me feel on the outside of everybody. Makes me wonder if I have any friends at all. Faith. Shit, that’s like standing in a food line that’s so long that you can’t even see the soup kitchen. You just hope the food will be there. If it’s not, you starve but at least your faith was strong. Faith What a concep “Excuse me, Mr. Rollins, could you come over here for a second and talk to your fans?” How would you be after a few rounds of that? I’m sitting on this bench writing. People on the street are watching me through a gate. “Look, he’s got something on his right hand.” “That’s not him” “It is, too!” “Look.” “Oh yeah! It is, fuck!” A few years from now, no one will be saying these things when I’m around. I guess this is “fame.” You know what they say Enjoy it while it lasts. Wow, that’s some trip. This trip is hard. It’s harder than I am. I can see what it’s doing to me. At first when I noticed my face starting to change, it tripped me out. I look at pictures of myself from two years ago and I can see a difference. Kind of scary but it’s in the cards. A few people I know have also noticed it. I guess that’s what happens. What a trip. What a war.