The Summer of 2020.

I am hoping the best for each of you in a summer we have not experienced touched by microbes we can only see with electron. microscopy. The viruses COVET our space, our lungs and at times, other organs. One hundred thousand of us have died in the US. Those of us in our 70s, me included, are fully aware this organism has proven a greater threat to us than to you younger folks. Thanks for your patience.

Thanks be to God for the drugs now helping, however little, and the potential new ones and vaccines for which we hope and pray. Should effective, safe drugs and vaccines be developed sooner rather than later, we can breath easier in our lungs and in a worldwide economy we hope to see grow and grow. As with Dicken’s Tiny Tim, “God bless ye everyone.”

You Remember Flying. Right?

It was 3/30/19, the first day of our journey to Israel and Jordan. Kristine and I boarded Lufthansa’s Airbus in L.A. at 430 pm, Pacific Daylight Time (PDT).

What is left of my mind had decided, since we would be spending two weeks touring, that, most conveniently, my pills would be packed in a multicolored series of plastic cylinders that screwed together. I had learned the exterior imprints on the three of my pills that were white and oval, so, they could be distinguished. That was particularly important when I spilled them all over the floor of the plane.

Age IS not just a number. It is the number of PILLS you take per day. As to this trip, the pills were taken in some remote places ONLY with bottled water.

I have also noticed hoping to travel to Europe, that, once you are over 75 the travel health insurers consider you semi-tombed. They lower their coverage limits so that any serious illness caught in Morocco will leave you penniless on their streets begging for a blood pressure pill. Only Rick’s Café would give you shelter and that would be only if you could sing, As Time Goes By.


Coffee has been around for centuries. Most bitter tastes in nature are a warning to the creature thinking of digging in. Coffee is exceptional.

It seems to be a beverage that brings people together. Spouses. New friends. Old friends.

May your life be filled with good coffee, comfortable chairs and dear ones. All three are very welcome in these times shadowed by a dark cloud.

P.S. I managed to include a whole chapter on my favorite beverage in the June, 2020, Amazon published, Please Save the Third Dance for Me. Please do.

An Ode to T. Gwynn

In my 26 years in San Diego no local athlete has impressed me more than the late Tony Gwynn. He is sorely missed.

Tony’s accomplishments were a thing of legend. He almost batted .400 the year of the baseball strike. He led the Padres through both of their World Series decimating a great Yankee pitching staff in his last trip to the Series.

What he had not learned from his watchful eye in self videos he picked up in long talks with his dear friend, Ted Williams. There were few pitchers who could minimize his effectiveness. Greg Maddox who mystified most hitters had trouble getting Tony out.

What I will never forget was his equal ability to engage a crowd with his eloquence. Mr Padre, you are irreplaceable.

H. Robert Rubin, best-selling, Amazon memoirist and author of Look Backward Angel, How Did I Get Through This? and Please Save the Third Dance for Me , all available on Amazon.

A Fond Memory

It was the summer of 2001. The horror of 9/11 had yet to occur. My spouse, Kristine, was eager to visit Europe, particularly having been an artist since the age of eight.

Our daughter Courtney was taking her junior year abroad in Florence. Courtney had been traveling on weekends all over Europe with groups of fellow students from her school. She toured Florence, Rome, Venice and Sienna with Kris.

When Kris saw Michelangelo’s David she was deeply touched by the entirely different nature of his two profiles and of course the astonishing skill of the sculptor. She loved Rome, specifically its history and grand beauty. Venice impressed her with the magnificent works of art in glass, which she mentions to this day.

In the Dark Ages of 2001, my only real salvation in my growing curiosity and loneliness was to follow their credit card activity, online. At least I knew where they were and that they were safe.

I thank God for the opportunity they both had to deepen and broaden their experience with time spent in that lovely part of the world.

Looking Back, Yet Again

Today I continued my clear out the garage project, fitting for a senior in the pandemic. Stored paperwork was the object today.

It reminded me of why I so hate the details I am occasionally forced to endure. So let me ask you: Has anyone, who ever refinanced a loan, actually, read any of the details in the Les Miserables-sized package of to- be-signed, paperwork? I guess we just put our trust in a multitude of folks who present us with the signing marathon.

Looking back at some, ominous signing marathons in which I voluntarily participated, brought me back to my medical school library a day in the Fall of 1967. I was about to study for my first anatomy exam. I had a thick anatomy book and reams of notes sitting before me. It was to require, first, that I digest the material and then a few days later bring it back up for the ardent gang who taught the anatomy course.

My first thought as I observed the height of the pile in front of me was, Do I really want to get this medical degree? Then remembering the Vietnam War had heated up in 1965, I quickly began devouring the meal before me. The backlines in other words sounded a lot better than the frontlines as I observed the bloodthirsty events going on in East Asia, available over dinner to the casual viewer.

Such was my day holed up in our improving garage…

Third Book of Memoirs Live

If you’ve enjoyed my blogs, I think you will find my new book an even better experience. It was George Eliot who said, “What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other.” That’s been a central goal of my memoirs.

If you read them at the very least the memoirs will engage you and take you outside the mundane. At best the words will touch your heart or tickle your funny bone.

The new book in paperback was just published on the 12th.  The Kindle version went live on Monday, the 15th. Just click the URL below to access Please Save the Third Dance for Me.

Looking Back Again

As we are both chronologically gifted in the pandemic, my spouse and I are holed up much of the time. It has led to home projects. I continued with our let’s reorganize the garage project yesterday.

It is interesting what one can accumulate in 25 years. I found a softball roster with the names and phone numbers of my daughter and her 14 year old teammates. It was a great bunch of girls with warm, delightful parents.

We were able to share the joy of the team winning the league championship that year. That was just before we moved from LA. What a pleasure to look back.

As we partied the day of the championship, we were unmasked, un-distanced, unprepared with 70 per cent, rubbing alcohol and shared a buffet table together. You remember those buffet tables. Right? What a contrast as as I found myself alone in our garage.

Life for all of us is filled with lots of contrasts. Kris and I are hunkered down because a horrific virus, we never could have foreseen, has turned 2020 into, in part, a forgettable year. May it soon become a distant memory replaced by memories of a remarkable, safe and effective vaccine.