From the Archives is a series of reposted articles from a previous iteration of The Lindeman Daily. There is more information about that iteration of the site in the About section, but the gist is that each post is a satirical news article sensationalizing the life of a college student/recent graduate. Most of these pieces are over 10 years old; some have aged like wine while others have aged like milk. And like aged wine and aged milk, they are probably more palatable when all mixed together. Enjoy!
Originally published October 6, 2011
The Princeton University Ballet held an introductory class on September 24, 2011. One of the leaders of the PUB shared an invite for the event on Facebook. Unsurprisingly, Tommy Lindeman, Class of 2014, decided to make an appearance.
“I originally did it just to support [a friend in PUB],” said Lindeman. “But as the day approached, it became something more to me.” At 3PM on the dot, Lindeman walked into the ballet room wearing a sleeveless T-shirt, leggings, and a headband to catch the sweat that would undoubtedly come from his efforts.
Unknown to Lindeman, from that point on, things would just get worse. “I had a great time,” said Lindeman, who received some unfounded confidence with the presence of teammates H. Kohl, Class of 2013, and A. Amico, Class of 2013. “I think I really showed the PUB that I could be a real asset to their group.”
More of an “ass” than an “asset,” Lindeman leapt across the room with no signs of balance, motor skills, or self-respect. “I had a little trouble pointing my toes,” said Lindeman, “but I don’t think that held me back at all.” But it did, his constant foot cramps made him spasm through the various motions like an inebriated centipede.
“Keeping time was a real issue for him,” said a PUB representative. “Also, he couldn’t really move well, or correctly. His arms flopped around in the wrong directions. I don’t know who he was following, but it wasn’t anyone in that room.” In fact, others remarked, it looked like he might have been having an epileptic seizure.
Lindeman, oblivious to his inability to make any of his movements look even remotely natural, continued to brag about his self-proclaimed skills. “I crushed the jumping, I could jump higher than anyone else. That might not have been the objective, but I did it, and I did it well.”
When combined with twirling across the room, Lindeman’s jumping proved to be less than amazing. “He started running at top speed, spun, and jumped,” said the PUB rep. “He fell and immediately started crying.”
“Yeah, I totally fooled them all with my fake crying,” said Lindeman. “They all bought it. Suckers.” He later claimed his eyes were red only because his contacts were bothering him.
Even the basic stances proved difficult for him. “I thought I got the four stances down pretty well. Or six stances. Probably six, that sounds right.” These stances led into the final lesson: bowing to your teacher. No one in attendance was amused by his lack of talent. “He even managed to butcher that, and the bow is the easiest part!”
“At the end, I got a sticker for participating,” said Lindeman. “They complimented me, and thanked me for coming. It was nice of them, but I could tell they were envious of my skills. And they should be; maybe I’ll actually join. I figure I can’t really suppress my gift, that would be selfish.”
[Ed. Note:
A few months later, Lindeman attended PUB’s spring show, and was proud to see that his efforts had been recorded on video, and were shown during intermissions to amuse the crowd.
“I guess my invitation to perform was lost in the mail,” rationalized Lindeman. “So they did the next best thing and showed the video of me mastering the craft.
“The video quality was a bit of a joke though, everyone in the audience was laughing at how bad it looked.”]