Libor Stržínek

* 1958

  • „My když jsme v Přerově s Komínkem založili Uličku nové vlny, tak jsme to dělali ze srandy. Hned jsme to večer v hospodě vykládali, ať se tam jdou podívat. Pak si mě odvezli policajti, takže jsem se musel přiznat. Načež další kamarád Rýša Lasák nelenil, vzal šablonu, sprej a celou uličku Nové vlny postříkal nápisem: STRŽÍNEK SE PŘIZNAL. A už jsem tam byl zas, abych jim řekl, kdo to tam nastříkal. Vždyť to byla sranda. Co by mně za to mohli udělat?“

  • „Uměli jsme asi tři písničky, které složil Laďa Topič s Jardou Matušenkem. S Pavlem jsme si oblékli kostým a nachystali rekvizity. Pavel byl knihař, já jsem pracoval jako topič odpadků a to byl neuvěřitelný zdroj rekvizit. Rekvizitama a úborama jsme zaujali publikum natolik, že si ani nevšimlo, že taky zpíváme a hrajem. Potom jsme měli další koncert u Franty Hrubého v Ostravě. Tam jsme hráli se Slepým střevem, což je dneska Mňága a Žďorp. Franta ten studoval a po tomhle koncertu je začali vyhazovat ze školy. Myslím, že ten z Mňágy a Žďorp se o tom taky vyjadřuje v nějaké literatuře, protože mně to ukazoval František Hrubý, náš bubeník. Tam z toho měli všichni problémy. Paní Hrubá se potom se mnou už nikdy nebavila. Neodpovídala mně na pozdrav v domnění, že za vyhazov jejího syna můžu já.“

  • „Zažil. Někde za Odrama jsme hráli, tam mě vtáhli do auta. Pak jsme nějkam přijeli, kde jsme nesměli vystoupit z vlaku. Zažil jsem takový ty pochody mezi špalírem policajtů na festivaly, kde jsme třeba ani nehráli, ale jeli jsme na ně. Pořád si mě nějakým způsobem volali na policajty nebo mě vytáhli z práce, ale nebylo to nic, z čeho by měl mít člověk strach. Rozhodně nevyhrožovali kriminálem nebo vyhoštěním nebo podobnými věcmi jako to měl třeba náš kytarista. Já osobně jsem prakticky, jestli se to dá tak říct, nebyl ani perlustrován, že by mně naliskali nebo dali pokutu. To, že jsem seděl třeba jedno nebo dvě odpoledně na policejtech a nikdo si mě nevšímal, aby mě trochu vyděsili. Potom když začaly demonstrace, tak to bylo prakticky u každé demonstrace, jsem seděl na policajtech, abych se čirou náhodou nezúčastnil, ale to si myslím, že není nic traumatizujícího, že bych z toho měl těžké a nenávistné vzpomínky až do smrti.“

  • "I used to go there in my dirty overall. They'd let me sit there for four hours or something like that. The air in the room was very thin and sticky. Then such a nice uncle entered the room and began to ask. 'I know nothing. What did you expect, there's not much happening in Michalov. What do you want to learn at U Dorka?' Once they asked me about some swastika that had been drawn up on a wall nearby the 'Hvězda' cinema. I told them: 'I have no idea who did it. I'm not drawing swastika, I'm not a Nazi.' So they let me sit there again. Then it was about half past five, one of them opened the door: 'Go!' I said: 'What do you mean go?' - 'Go!' So I left. In my black overall I walked through all of Přerov to Meopty. I thought: 'When will be the next time?"

  • "To be frank, I have positive memories even of the period that I spent in communism, even though I didn't get a chance to travel abroad. They refused to let me travel abroad, including president Husák. Husák's office sent me a letter saying that this was not consistent with the national interests and with preserving the internal order. Back then I was young and free, I had nothing but I had nothing to lose as well. I wasn't afraid even of jail. I didn't even fully really realize that they could put me in jail. I thought: 'what for'? They constantly summoned me up to the police station or to the StB. They paid me visits at work, blamed me and ashamed me in front of my co-workers and a week later, we would somewhere climb on the roof of some police station and tear off the loudspeaker or do some other sort of boyish mischief."

  • "It was a rather strange sentence – I think that they simply had to convict me. So they drove to my workplace, got some people come into the office and interrogated them. At that time we had just stolen a couple of synthetic resin bonded paper rolls for the production of drums and I took it there with one more guy. But he had stolen much, much more of it, which I didn't know at that time. I think his name was Lamr. They arrested him and I think that they might have promised him a lower sentence or something like that, so he gave me away. He even claimed that I scolded the comrade President while I had been working with him. At first, they liberated me but then the judge from Ostrava who only had one arm and who thought he was a peoples' tribune convicted me. I think I got half a year of reduced salary or something like that."

  • "That was where I met Pavel Komínek and shortly afterwards this guy here who's sitting in the garden right now. This bawling mason with the beard. He's the one who founded the band with me and Pavel Komínek. It was first called the 'Loose Association' and later 'Good Old'. This guy came from the prison shortly before that. He has a lot of stories to tell. On New Year's Eve, he met an officer who was going home from duty and he would tear away his cords and say: 'Have a great new year you god-damn spinach'. Before he came back home, they were already waiting for him and he was sentenced to two years, no pardon. He was released from prison on probation and again, he had nothing better to do than to pull up a red tie of a stranger in front of the 'Přerov' hotel and slap him in the face for having such a red tie. So he went to prison again. He was behind bars twice. He was imprisoned for such pointless and stupid acts my base player, this Laďa Topič. He's a real demon."

  • "Back then most of the events were prohibited so we didn't have to be really good. Usually, when we came to a concert after a while it was interrupted anyway. It usually even wasn't the police or StB, but just the local firefighters or an old grandma that would complain to the mayor. Back then, these people were omnipotent. We would go on a train to a place somewhere in northern Bohemia and boys came running around the train informing us that the police was already waiting for us on the train station. They shouted at us that the police agents are arresting everybody and that the concert had been called off. We had no chance to perform publicly with our repertoire for almost a year. We would go to some concert every two or three weeks but it usually ended in disaster. It wasn't because we'd get drunk or something like that but because they didn't let us go on the stage at all."

  • Full recordings
  • 1

    Troubky, 19.06.2012

    (audio)
    duration: 01:44:44
    media recorded in project Stories of 20th Century
  • 2

    Olomouc, 18.09.2018

    (audio)
    duration: 01:15:35
    media recorded in project Stories of the region - Central Moravia
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Simply no respect for authorities

Libor Stržínek
Libor Stržínek
photo: archiv pamětníka

Libor Stržínek was born in 1958 in Prague. His father worked for the Czechoslovak army as a military counter-intelligence service officer. In 1968, he was transferred to Přerov, where the whole family settled. At the age of 11, Libor’s mother died in a tragic car accident. His father re-married but his two sons never really got to like his new wife. Therefore, Libor left his parent’s house at the age of 18. In the beginning, when he was on his compulsory military service, he was a member of the Union of the Socialist Youth but his world view would change radically soon. He was strongly influenced by the music band “The Sex Pistols” and by the so-called “rebellion music”. In 1984, Libor Stržínek, together with Ladislav Topič and Pavel Komínek founded the band “Loose association” that was later renamed to “Good old manual work”. He was the singer of the band and composed most of its songs. The texts of most of the songs were of an anti-Communist character. Therefore the band was prohibited from playing at public concerts and its members became the objects of interest of the secret state police. Libor Stržínek was interrogated several times and eventually he was allegedly convicted for denigrating the nation, race and conviction and was punished by a deduction from his salary for six months. After November 1989, he became a member of the Civic Forum and a trade union chief. He married in 1988 and lives with his wife and daughter in Troubky, where he witnessed the catastrophic flooding that took place in 1997. The whole street where he lived was flooded and all the buildings in the street - except for their house - collapsed. His wife and daughter had to be evacuated by a helicopter. He’s still the singer in his band Good old manual work.