We had barely introduced ourselves when the newspaper editor held up our book, gesturing to our "two-faced" logo on the front cover and said something along the lines of …

Ok, off the record, admit it, you embellished the characters in the book to be more entertaining.

When we finished laughing, we explained …


that actually we had toned it down, feeling that no one would believe what we're really like, especially Black. With a journalist's healthy degree of skepticism, he politely smiled, put down the book beside him and we proceeded to do what's most important when you're at Kenny & Ziggy's Delicatessen, deciding what to eat.

And then, what else would two Jewish women (sisters, no less) meeting with Michael Duke, editor of the Jewish Herald-Voice, one of the Gulf Coast's oldest Jewish newspapers, do? We talked. And talked, and talked. About how we grew up in New York. About how we took very different roads in life, yet both ended up in Houston (Black as a career choice, Red because it's where her British husband had been transferred). And how Red had a crisis that Black turned into a book, a brand, and a business. One that was supposed to go to Hollywood but ended up in the world of education, having completed our first semester of teaching at KIPP Houston High School less than a year after Neiman Marcus had launched the book.

So, it began … a breakfast meeting that lasted until almost lunch. We had hoped for an article and ended up with a front-page cover story, with one of our favorite titles, "Raising Kids, Racing Cars." But we never expected that we'd soon begin writing a monthly column for the Jewish Herald-Voice. But now, over ten years and over 120 monthly columns later, here we are. Life has a funny way of taking you in directions you never expected.

Obviously, we didn't know any of that as we reluctantly got up from our table. As we started to walk towards the front cash register, Michael, who we now felt had become a friend in a mere few hours, paused, turned to us, and said:

You're right. You downplayed the characters.

Want to read our monthly column? Here's a list.

Red's two Labradoodles

Photo taken by Red

If you asked Black about National Pet Month, she’d probably quote you statistics about the number of people who have pets and the health benefits, conveniently “forgetting” what she told Red about unconditional love. But Red would tell you that she celebrates Moo (read the original post to learn about the other “unusual names” of her four-legged family members) every day, letting her know with a hug and a cuddle how much she’s loved.



Red's Head assets.rebelmouse.io


Well, this month marks 18 years since you changed my life, so I wanted to thank you. Again. For bringing such happiness into the lives of the girls and me, although some heartbreaking sadness, too. But there's nothing like unconditional love.


Black's Head Black assets.rebelmouse.io


OK, but can you tell me what you are talking about?


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Do you remember when I moved to Houston after living overseas, and we started going to the Hyatt Hill Country in San Antonio for Memorial Day weekend? You were married to Larry, and his girls were young, and Natasha and Sawyer were even younger. Well, in 2003 you asked me if it was OK if you got us a puppy.


Black's Head Black assets.rebelmouse.io


You had always talked about getting a dog but wanted to have children first. The timing seemed right, but given your allergies, the options were limited. Until I learned about a new breed, well technically a mixed breed, originally developed in Australia to be hypoallergenic guide dogs.


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I'll never forget you showing me photos of the most incredibly adorable dogs I'd ever seen. The fact Labradoodles were half standard poodle, which was what I had initially thought we'd get, and half Labrador Retriever was amazing. But only you could find the perfect dog from an article in a business magazine.
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Photo courtesy of United States Holocaust Memorial Museum
Last night began Holocaust Remembrance Day, which ends today at sunset. A day when Jews around the world stop to reflect on a horror beyond comprehension. Yet, in light of the atrocities being committed in Ukraine, it should make us all stop, think, and promise to “never forget.” As we see images that are hard to believe are happening now, there are some Holocaust images that will always be imprinted in our minds and hearts … all serving as a reminder that, regardless of your religion, evil is evil.

red head red head assets.rebelmouse.io

Shoes. Seemingly endless shoes. That’s all I can think about.


Black's Head Black assets.rebelmouse.io

I know you cannot be talking about my closet.


red head red head assets.rebelmouse.io

Far from it! It’s an image that’s forever burned in my memory. A pile of shoes, each one representing a life lost. Each one a story onto itself. Each one proof of something we should never forget.


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Normally, I would ask you to tell me what you are talking about or accuse you of being overly dramatic. But, not this time.
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For golfers, spring means another Masters golf tournament. Last year, everyone talked about the 35th anniversary of Jack Nicklaus’s amazing come-from-behind victory to claim his 18th major championship. What made it even more amazing was that, at 46, no one thought he would ever win another major. This year, the talk’s all about Tiger Woods (now 46) competing on the 25th anniversary of his first Masters win. It’s a comeback story straight out of Hollywood as a serious car accident 14 months ago initially left people wondering if he would survive, let alone ever play golf again. (Which is reminiscent of when Ben Hogan, one of golf’s all-time greats, came back after a horrific car accident in 1949 to win The U.S. Open in 1950.)

For most golf fans and lovers of great sports comebacks stories, those are inspirational examples of never giving up. And although I was in the crowd around the 18th hole in 1986 when Jack Nicklaus raised his putter in triumph, that was my second favorite Masters memory. And my greatest memory at the Masters didn’t actually take place at the Masters. Well, not at the golf course, anyway.

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