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Me and Bobby – not a day over age seven.

BY MARGIE RUBIN

I recently opted out of attending my 40th high school reunion. Nobody I knew was going, and I had no desire to make small talk with a bunch of middle-aged strangers. I’m sure those who went wondered, “Will I recognize anyone?” Or more to the point, “Will anyone recognize me?” All of which brings me to the story of Bobby and Mrs. Ruvusky.

When I was 22, I went to see the comic, Bobby Slayton, at a club in San Francisco. While getting a drink at the bar before the show, the comedian approached me and said, “I know you.” I told him I knew him too – he was the headliner, Bobby Slayton. He repeated that he knew me from Mrs. Ruvusky’s Hebrew school class. Didn’t I remember him as the class clown? I admitted that I had no recollection of him, or anything else from 2nd grade. Turns out, he moved after that year, and hadn’t seen me since I was seven. Did I change that little in 15 years?

Fast forward to last December. Bobby Slayton was performing at a local improv club. My husband and I, and two other couples, decided to go. The price was right – no cover and a two-drink minimum. After the show, Bobby was selling his DVD in the lobby. I was nervous that he wouldn’t recognize me after 35 years, but knew I had to take the plunge, and find out. I approached him, and asked him if he knew me? Without skipping a beat he said, “Mrs. Ruvusky’s 2nd grade Hebrew school class.”

Hopefully he’ll recognize me in the nursing home.