The Painter and the Bomb (special edition)

Jón was a painter, but not a famous one. He lived in a small town in the south of Iceland, where he worked as a teacher and painted in his spare time. He loved to capture the beauty of nature, the colors of the sky, the shapes of the mountains, the reflections of the water. He had a modest talent, but a great passion. He had a friend, Bjarni, who was a goldsmith and a farmer. They had met at a local market, where they had exchanged their crafts and stories. They had become good friends, and often visited each other's homes and workshops. They shared a common interest in art and history, and enjoyed talking about their dreams and ideas. One day, they decided to go for a walk along a country road, to enjoy the fresh air and the scenery. They took their tools with them, in case they found something interesting or inspiring. Jón carried his easel, his canvas, and his paints, while Bjarni carried his hammer, his anvil, and his metals. They walked and talked, admiring the landscape and the weather. It was a sunny day, with a few clouds in the sky. They felt happy and relaxed, as if nothing could disturb their peace. But then, something did. Something unexpected and terrifying. Something that changed their lives forever. They heard a loud noise, like a thunderclap, coming from above. They looked up and saw a plane, a big and dark one, flying low and fast. They recognized it as a German bomber, one of those that had been attacking the British and American bases in Iceland. They felt a surge of fear and anger, as they realized that they were in danger. They saw the plane drop something, something that looked like a metal cylinder, something that they knew was a bomb. They saw it fall towards the ground, towards them. They had no time to react, no time to run, no time to hide. They only had time to scream. The bomb landed beside a shed, a few meters away from them. It exploded, creating a huge blast that shook the earth and the air. It sent a wave of fire and shrapnel, that tore everything apart. It destroyed the shed, the road, the fields, and everything else in its vicinity. Jón and Bjarni were thrown to the ground, by the force of the explosion. They felt a sharp pain, as they were hit by the debris and the heat. They lost consciousness, as they were covered by the dust and the smoke. They survived, by a miracle. They were found by some farmers, who heard the explosion and came to help. They were taken to a hospital, where they were treated for their wounds and burns. They recovered, after a long and painful process. They lived, but they were never the same. Jón lost his sight, as his eyes were damaged by the blast and the shrapnel. He could no longer see the beauty of nature, the colors of the sky, the shapes of the mountains, the reflections of the water. He could no longer paint, his greatest joy and passion. He became blind, and bitter. Bjarni lost his hand, as it was severed by the blast and the shrapnel. He could no longer work with his metals, his hammer, and his anvil. He could no longer create his beautiful and intricate jewelry, his pride and skill. He became crippled, and depressed. They lost their friendship, as they drifted apart. They blamed each other, and themselves, for their misfortune. They felt guilty, and angry, and hopeless. They could no longer talk, or laugh, or dream. They became strangers, and enemies. They lost their peace, as they lived in fear and hatred. They hated the Germans, who had dropped the bomb. They hated the British and the Americans, who had brought the war to their land. They hated the world, that had become a nightmare. They hated themselves, for being alive. They lost their lives, as they died inside. They died, long before their bodies did.

I remember

I remember waking up this morning not being sure if I was alive or dead or if I was rely just dreaming. I remember my wife lying beside me, but it wasn´t actually my wife but rather Elisabeth Taylor. I remember being a bit confused as Miss Taylor is no longer among us, so I guess I was not yet awake. I remember waking up again or at least I thought I had and then I was standing in my bathroom with the toothbrush stuck up my nose so at that point I gathered I must be asleep still. I remember the next minute I was out the door and the neighbour cat attacked me on my way to the car, which took me by surprise as we are pretty good friends. I remember I had my shotgun in my hand luckily and was able to scare the cat away which was good because this was no ordinary cat but a Puma that had gotten of the Car-ferry Norrönna escaping from a Circus that was headed for Reykjavik. I remember there were also elephants on the loose which I came across on my way to work and many people were running wild to get away from them. I remember the elephants tearing up trees and lampposts all over town and throwing cars around as if they were merely toys. I remember the Rescue Team coming in trying to fight of the wild animals. I remember that in the middle of all this there was an earthquake and the earth was ripped apart which was good in away because all the animals were thrown in to the cracks that the eruption made. I remember that I went inside my workplace when this was over and had a good strong cup of coffee . I remember that once again I woke up after having this cup of coffee. I remember that then and there I remembered that on my way to work I had seen these bright lights which I imagine may have caused all this and that maybe this was all planted in my head by Aliens.

Gamall karl í Hagkaupum.

Brá mér í Hagkaup Kringlunni í dag. Vappaði þar um í leit að jólagjöfum. Tók eftir því að öðru hvoru var einhver gamall karl á útkíkkinu og fylgdi mér eins og skuggi um búðina. Legg til að speglar verði fjarlægðir úr versluninni.

Minningabrot úr Kópavogi

Rauði rassinn og önnur leynifélög

Mikið var um bardaga í hverfinu í gamla daga (Auðbrekka og nágrenni). Eins og áður er komið fram stálum við strákarnir oft og tíðum efniviði í vopn og verjur úr nærliggjandi trésmíðaverkstæðum án teljandi samviskubits. Mjög vinsælt var að útbúa skildi úr lokum af pappatunnum, sem notaðir voru undir afgangs timbur, lista og því um líkt. Voru lok þessi þannig gerð að járnhringur var utan um mjög þykkan pappa. Skjöldur var síðan útbúinn þannig að 4 göt voru boruð í pappann og þrætt snæri í gegnum götin og voru þá fengin handföng á skjöldinn.

Leyni og bardagafélög voru mörg í Kópavogi og lentum við krakkarnir í hverfinu einhvern tíma í því að innrás var gerð í hverfið af gengi ofan af Digranesvegi. Þrátt fyrir vopnleysi náðum við fljótt yfirhöndinni í bardaganum og eins og tíðkaðist tókst okkur að lemja einn skjöldinn sem áður var lýst svo vendilega utan um hönd eins árásarmannsins að hann mun því seint gleyma. Rákum við lið þetta á flótta upp hæðina á móts við nr. 19 í Auðbrekku með öskrum og ópum sem hækkuðu að mun þegar skarexi kom fljúgandi í fallegum boga úr miðjum óvinahernum og lenti á miðju enninu á Bigga Stóra. Skipti engum togum að Biggi steinlá og urðum við að bera hann heim og var hann umsvifalaust sendur á slysavarðstofuna (Gamla heilsuverndarstöðin), sem í þá daga var ein aðalstofnunin fyrir unga drengi. Áttu reyndar ýmsir erindi þangað vegna annarra og merkilegri rauna á unglinsárum og verða engin nöfn nefnd í því sambandi önnur en stofnunarinnar. Löngu seinna eða nánar tiltekið um haustið eftir þennan atburð komst ég að raun um að ég sat í bekk með einum innrásaraðilanum, sem reyndist bróðir þess er kastaði skaröxinni. Bekkjarfélaginn hét Hafþór Sævaldsson og bróðirinn Þór og er það haft fyrir satt að afi þeirra hafi gert við net. Tókst með okkkur ágætis kunningskapur. Ekki liggur fyrir hvað leynifélag þeirra bræðra hét.

Rauði rassinn var annað leynifélag talið eiga heimili í holtinu við Kópavogskirkju. Fór miklum sögum af grimmd félagsmanna í Rauða rassinum. Kvað svo stíft að þessum sögum að allir strákar í hverfinu okkar í austurbænum forðuðust að vera einir á ferð um kirkjuholtið og er til marks um þessa hræðslu að flestir sóttu sund í Sundhöll Reykjavíkur, en sneyddu hjá Sundlaug Kópavogs lengi vel. Aldrei lenti ég í Rauða rassinum og hvarf mér öll hræðsla við það hræðilega félag þegar ég hóf að sækja fótboltaæfingar- og leiki á Vallagerðisvöll.