This week’s clueless loser honors go to Bob Straus, a 46 year-old bachelor, who by profession writes dating advice for Match.com. Straus is briefly profiled in an article in the New York Times in the Style section about people with eccentric tastes in apartment decor.
Much of the article is focussed on Albert Podell, 70, who apparently has had a very successful legal career (recently endowing the N.Y.U. Law School with multiple millions of dollars), but who still lives in the same one bedroom rent-stabilized SoHo apartment he occupied while in school in the early 1970’s, with all of the same decor, including as noted in the article by reporter Joyce Wadler:
…given the hot pink living room with the futon seating and the fraying contact paper on the kitchen cabinets.
The place is also dimly lighted, which, once you examine the kitchen nook in daylight, is probably not such a bad thing. The cabinets hold nothing but a six-month supply of powdered milk for Mr. Podell’s cereal, so that he can keep his trips to the supermarket to a minimum; the Formica countertop is peeling; the stove has been disconnected from the gas feed. (Mr. Podell, who usually eats out, sees no reason to waste fuel.)
All these things have proved detriments to love, but none so effectively as his sheets. Mr. Podell likes the ones from the ’60s and ’70s that tell a story: sheets with intergalactic battles or pink hippopotami or the Beatles. Since these are no longer available in adult-bed sizes, Mr. Podell’s sheets are now 30 to 40 years old.
In light of the fact that he is a philanthropic multi-millionaire, Mr. Podell can be given a pass on his taste in home decor, which according Podell is not a turn-off to all women. Yeah, right, especially after they check out his financial standing.
Back to Mr. Straus, who on the other hand is looking to this observer more and more like a train-wreck. Apparently writing dating advice for an Internet lonely hearts club has not provided Straus with an income that would afford professional decorating advice. It gives one pause to reflect, why would any advice on affairs of the heart carry any creedence from this not very gracefully aging bachelor, who voluntarilly allowed this peak in to his somewhat pathetic personal life by a national media outlet, and who apparently has no grasp on how infantile and politically incorrect he comes across as.
Here is Mr. Straus, in his apartment, proudly showing off his most prized posession, a stuffed, dead, baby seal:
Does Mr. Straus, Ms. Wadler or the New York Times have any inkling of how disgustingly abhorrent this image of the “proud papa” is?
We at BFD are certainly not PETA cultists, but the image that conjurs up of baby seals being clubbed to a bloody pulp, just won’t leave our mind, thanks to the bad taste and poor judgement of this week’s clueless loser.