LICENSE AND REGISTRATION DEPT.
Don Jíbaro gets run over by car. ...his own car
Report by Don Jíbaro Barbanegra
—"¿Hello? ...This is 911. What's the nature of your emegency?"
—"¿Hello? HELP HELP !!!"
—"Sir, what's your emergency?
—"I got run over by my car and I'm on the floor bleeding..."
—"Sir.... You got run over by WHAAT? ¿Is this a joke?
—"NO JOKE, my name is Orlando and I'm wounded and bleeding on the corner of Limonite Blvd.and Hamner Ave."
—"Sir, the Paramedics will be there in about 3 minutes."
Three minutes later the fire engine and the ambulance surrounded me on the asphalt floor of the Mall's parking lot... while I looked in disbelief at my left foot, swimming in a pool of blood, my eyeglasses and shoes far into the yonderland. The rest was blurry.

¿Strange, Huh? Yes. My own car had just ran over my foot, peeled away about six inches of flesh below the pinkie toe, and trampled my chest cage with the driver door. YES... plus a few minor little scrapes.

¿Still Strange? OK, Let's start from the top...

As I do every Thursday, I had just visited my 82 yr old father -in- law, who lives alone in a small ranch house in Riverside, some 60 miles east of Los Angeles. I bring the lunch and the 17" laptop to watch a movie, our weekly routine... I dare say.This time we watched HELLBOY, a sci-fi flick full of violence, mayhem, destruction and the American way... just the way we like them.

On my way back, after kissing Grand Papá good bye. I wanted to get a cuppa coffee at any Starbucks with drive-thru... so I stopped in Chino Hills for my café americano with 4 extra shots, I pulled over to a considerably empty space of the parking lot...to sip a bit on the HOT coffee delight. T'was hot—no driving, Wise choice.

I placed the cup on the dashboard, opened the driver's door to stretch my legs, shifted the baby on "PARK", and went on to exit graciously as I always do. Well, as you may have already guessed, the shifter didn't land on "PARK" BUT REVERSE!!!


So, while half-way out, as I put my leg out to exit, the van is already going backwards, with my other leg still inside the van, the door tramples me away a few inches on the extra-coarse asphalt floor, as the front wheel smashes onto the left foot, bent inwardly after the fall, ripping away 6 inches of good ol' Puerto Rican footsie flesh. YIKES!

I hear the van crashing into a wooden fence 100 ft. behind me while in a state of total bewilderment, I look for my glasses to try to put some focus into this nightmare (Say...if it's during the day, wouldn't it be a "daymare"?!

Ahem... I see my glasses, not far... about seven paces. I picked 'em up, clean 'em up, put them on and browse through the surroundings, stopping at my left foot just enough to behold my precious limb swimming in a pool of blood. WHOA, Nell!

I let out a couple of "Helps" until I realize I have a cell phone hanging from my neck. WOW! what a relief!!! So I flip and dial...

—"¿Hello? ...This is 911. What's nature of your emegency?"
—"¿Hello? HELP HELP !!!"
—"Sir, what's your emergency?
—"I got run over my car and I'm on the floor bleeding..."
—"Sir.... You got run over by WHAAT? ¿Is this a joke?
—"NO JOKE, my name is Orlando and I'm bleeding on the corner of Limonite Blvd.and Hamner Ave."
—"Sir, the Paramedics will be there in about 3 minutes."

Three minutes later, amidst of sirens wailing, buzzers buzzing and bullhorns mooing, I manage to see about four or five hunky-dory paramedics and firemen, pondering how are they going to lift and gurney my enormous, battered and crushed rib cage ON TO that small ambulance.... Up, up... Off we go!!! Sirens, horns, buzzers and all into sunset of the 57 Fwy to Corona.

NOTE: That old ambulace needs some struts and major shock absorbers because that ride was just like out of a Marx Brothers flick.

The photos below are some shots I took while I was trying to make light of the whole daymare affair. My son, Sammy, shot a couple. I share 'em with you cuz there are a lot you out there who really love me and want the best for me. I need that love. Thanks again and forgive me if I don't get up.

This guy is an intern that stitches better than the MD

Wait for the closeup.

¡Átiza! Nice uniform stiches, mate!

Wrap it up and looks like a baby bootie!

¡The man needs air... Pronto! Air!!

Back in the saddle... er, I mean, the walker again!

With much love to y'all