Arthur “Art” Rubin passed away on July 29 at the age of 84.
He never once cured cancer or performed Tchaikovsky’s “Concerto in D,” but his one-liners, essays and off-the-cuff observations were their own brand of brilliance. Art was a profoundly gifted speaker and writer, his stoic outward demeanor veiled the range of emotion and depth of insight he so deftly expressed on paper.
His imposing physical presence was only intensified by his deadpan, no-nonsense delivery; those he respected and adored were the ones who quickly understood the warmth and mischief behind his opaque exterior. Art purposely answered every spam call, only to see what absurd new level he could take the conversation to when the telemarketer would ask how old he was or whether he needed a walk-in bathtub. He delighted in the game.
In retirement, Art adopted two dogs — first Xena and then Lacey — and through his devotion to them, one might catch a glimpse of his well-hidden tender side. Sentimentality and softness weren’t exactly on-brand.
Art loved water sports, the Kansas City Chiefs, puns, cars, and the maybe-next-year California Bears. He would not have wanted a traditional obituary, but he would want you to know:
He leaves behind his wife, Lynne, of 61 years; his daughter, Leslie Smith (and husband Mike Smith); and his son, Alex (and wife Rebecca Graff). All were at his bedside to see him off. He also leaves behind two beloved sisters, Helen Connelly and Nancy Rubin. Fittingly, caregivers in Art’s final days consistently remarked on his outsized presence, looming larger than life, even as he prepared to take his leave. His family will remember his unfailing sense of humor and his love of words; they will forever imagine those enormous hands of his, continuing to reach for them and hold them close.
In lieu of flowers, please consider a donation in memory to the San Diego Humane Society (sdhumane.org) or the local food bank Feeding San Diego (feedingsandiego.org).