Rochelle Rubin, Irwin Sattinger, and Reille

My Dinners With Irwin

Irwin Sattinger died on September 5, 2022, two days after his 96^th birthday. Irwin was my stepdad in every way, but for the fact that he and Rochelle, my mom, never married. (I’m not messing with legalities or details here; for all purposes, he was my dad.)

My mom and Irwin lucked out. They found love and lived that love for many years. They understood, better than anyone I have ever known, how to accommodate one another. (Truth be told, Irwin knew how to attend to Rochelle and her flights of fancy. Best example? She sells her downtown San Diego condo within a year of her passing. Wants to

2021 Update: Rubin & Bernstein PLLC and Mark Rubin

Lawyers and the Canine Corps

Hey there. On March 16, 2020, I attended an in-person settlement conference at the Pima County Superior Court. Lots of sanitizer cleaned surfaces. No masks. The case settled but, even then, none of us should have been in the courthouse.

Since March 17 I have been at home. Not completely – I have been in the courthouse maybe 10X since March 16, and I did try a case on Election Day, and I drop by the office briefly every several days – but the work life unfolds differently. Lots of phone calls and emailing, Zoom meetings, and many, many work-arounds to avoid personal contact.

Max

(Confession:

Personal and Business: Isolation News

Mark Rubin

My house has a more than 60’ long walking length, passing from kitchen to dining room to hall to my bedroom. I walk that distance, back and forth, every day. Hundreds of times. (During the past week I averaged 24K steps per day.) Max thinks I’m nutso, I’m sure, and Leigh removes all doubt. But … I feel wonderful, and the early morning steps – the real workout – and the walking breaks all day refresh me.

Veganism had crept into my life. Beef went away almost totally a few years ago, for Leigh worries greatly about prions. Who knows, but for the environment and everything else, we ought to stop raising

Summer Travel 2019

Mark Rubin

Summer Travel 2019 involves family. We spent last Wednesday through Sunday in New York and Connecticut, for family Bat Mitzvah and high school graduation celebrations. Mid-July will have us in Rochester New York for my daughter’s wedding party. (A scheduling snafu had us in Rochester for 2+ extra days. Easy solution? Two-plus extra days in Lower Manhattan, after the party.)

New York City

LB and I had not been to NYC together before. She’s had NYC addresses, and I’ve been a many-times visitor. Together, we had a fine time. One hour from landing at LaGuardia to arriving at our place at 75th St. on the West Side. OK dinner at Jacobs’s Pickles. (Best ever greens

My Sunday Nights

Mark Rubin

In February 2016 my mom spent several days and nights in the hospital. She’d had a major abdominal insult in 2002. Then, no one expected her to live through the night; we certainly didn’t think she’d be alive and thriving in early 2016.

When the hospital said, “Go home,” the doctor said, “You really need to focus on what you eat.” Lean proteins. Fresh vegetables. No more chazzerai. In English? No more junk food.

I couldn’t do an everyday cooking thing, but I could carve out Sunday nights for my mom and her BFF / LOML Irwin. And I did! Without fail, just about.

Something grilled. Veggies. And roasted potatoes. Max joined me, too.

Happy Father’s Day 2017

Well, Father’s Day 2017 is upon us (or here or gone, depending on when you read this post.) This is my 24th as a father, and I shared a total of 44 with my dad.

I like Father’s Day. Lots. I have my two-part ritual, developed over the past 15 years or so and have missed it only twice. In 2009 I attended an old friend’s memorial service back East in 2009. (RIP, SH; we miss you!) And last year I skipped half of my ritual, opting for Raider of the Lost Ark at the Loft Cinema. Details here.

Part one involves watching the last day of the U.S. Open. I don’t

Passover in 2017 / 5776

My Personal Passover

Passover passed several days ago, on April 18 at sundown. Eight days earlier, on Monday, April 10, it started.

Passover came freighted with emotion this year. No Rochelle Rubin, and no Hirsches, as our dear friend Bob was only two days gone. And we dined at my mom and Irwin’s home, and used my grandmother’s china.

Sadness aside, our Seder offered its moments. We welcome strangers at Passover: Tucson newbies joined us, as well as close friends for whom Passover represents a cross-cultural opportunity. (With respect for Biblical dictates, “new friends” feels more positive and uplifting than “strangers.”)

There were also flat out misses. We had to kindle the Passover lights in