Whenever I learn someone I know had both the conviction and the connections to actually write a book, I’m inspired to amplify it to the extent that I can. After all, we’re just about to hit 1500 of these musings, and my original intent was to follow the lead of other daily bloggers I’ve known over the years and find a way to coble together a “best of” of more timeless and impactful thoughts into a book and perhaps monetize a few shekels out of that. Somehow, that seemingly simple game plan has proven to be beyond my grasp, and please don’t get me started as to how frustrating I find that. When someone otherwise well-intentioned tells you that the only way anyone gets published these days is to pay someone for the privilege, it infuriates me to a level I thought I left behind as a child.
It was in those formative years where I developed what to many is my somewhat warped and dark sense of humor courtesy of my mother, far and away the quipster in my family. As many of you already know and perhaps experienced first hand, Mom had a few, ahem, issues. So when Mom would attempt to throw out observations they’d range from modestly snarky to downright cruel. The tamest of which was when she’d buy me new clothes at the “husky” shop that was our only affordable option in those days. When she gave her approval for me to wear the likes of plaid shorts made with cheap, thin material on a body that carried more weight then than I do today she’d quip “Tear It Well”. It frequently didn’t take long for that to occur, and naturally I’d blame myself for it. We paid for plenty of child therapists’ vacations before we’d wind up taking our own.
So when a long-lost colleague of mine reached out and alerted me that he had written a book that celebrates the far more upbeat and humorous observations of a parent he unabashedly calls “his hero” I immediately hit the one-click and scooped it up (it’s readily available only on Kindle these days, which is practically a requirement for my current budget). And when you get to the Amazon page that advertises it, it’s easy to understand why despite that reality I considered it a very worthy investment:
A SMART Man Wouldn’t Have Thought of That! is a curated collection of treasured quips and “knee slappers,” called “Elliotism’s,” named for the author’s beloved father, Elliot, affectionately referred to by the author as the world’s greatest salesman. Elliot started out selling asphalt paving door-to-door and morphed into a manufacturer’s representative in consumer electronics. Along the way, he displayed the innate ability to not only succeed in business but affect people along the way. His son watched him interact with customers, who often would break out in laughter and then “pull out the pen” to write the treasured purchase order. A master salesman and an even greater person, Elliot provides an example to all readers about how humor and a smile can help overcome just about any obstacle or hardship. The many witticisms in the book will entertain and resonate with readers, making them reflect and laugh at the same time.
As you can see from his own blurb, Elliott’s son Michael Peikoff is a pretty accomplished dude in his own right, so a tribute to someone he reveres so much is justification enough to drop a dime. And as you can also see from a few samples of said “Elliotisms”, 
Dad indeed had a way with words and the turn of a phrase. 
One can only wonder if Elliott had been in the writer’s room for some of the less successful sitcoms that his son was charged with getting press on over the years there may have been a lot more success stories on all of our resumes. But as we know, being actually funny hasn’t always been a requirement to get such a job–which may be a more overriding reason besides changing business models that sitcoms are now an endangered species.
It’s a breezy and extremely quick read–in fact, it’s more accurately a “look”, given that the majority of the book is filled with the illustrations that his colleague Fred Bode provided. Michael Peikoff is indeed blessed to have someone with Bode’s talents as a co-author to best illustrate “Elliotisms” that sadly have no video and won’t ever be heard in their natural environment, as Elliott Peikoff passed nearly 20 years ago. I tried to get my trusty Copilot companion to develop something similar for one of mom’s more biting bon mots:
Wanna play puss in the corner? I’ll punch you in the puss and I’ll knock you in the corner.
Instead, I got this overly apologetic robotic reply:
I can’t create that image. It includes violence toward an animal, even in a cartoon context, which I’m not allowed to depict.
When I tried to illustrate one of her other favorites–There’s a bus coming in ten minutes; be under it–I was effectively told “Are you freaking kidding me?”.
I didn’t even attempt to use it for what she’d suggest to me when I tied up the phone line talking to friends once I finally had some. I guess castration isn’t something one can ask AI to support with a visual.
Indeed, when a parent can be both provocative and inspiring, it’s something that should be celebrated, and Michael’s homage does that with expedience and heart. Do yourself a favor and find a few of your own spare shekels to give yourself that experience. I’m sure Elliott would have appreciated it, and would have likely been kinder to you than many other parents would or could have been. I, and the many tanned and well-rested therapists I enabled over the years, would certainly endorse that viewpoint.
Until next time….