Month: September 2024

From the Archives: Pirate Invades PHL, Takes to the Skies

On By TommyIn From the Archives, The Lindeman Daily1 Comment

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 February 26, 2012

On January 28, 2012, the Princeton Crew teams traveled to Tampa Bay, Florida for their annual winter training trip. While in recent years, the teams have traveled to Austin, Texas for their trip, they have switched back to the traditional Tampa following a three year absence. A serious time for hard work and focus, T. Lindeman ’14 arrived at the Philadelphia International Airport wearing a pirate costume.

Coincidentally, the first day of the trip fell on the last day of Tampa’s week long Gasparilla festival. Gasparilla is an annual festival held in Tampa that celebrates the debauchery and lack of hygiene of swashbuckling across the seas. Under a pretext of historical celebrations in honor of alleged pirate José Gaspar, the celebration involves thousands of citizens forgoing their landlubber clothing in favor of more whimsical pirate costumes, and consuming large amounts of alcohol. This year, the culmination of the week of piratical festivities fell on Saturday, January 28th, when the pirate-citizens staged a faux- invasion and demanded the key to the city from the mayor of Tampa. While Lindeman did not directly take part in any of this, he did adopt the spirit of the festival by invading the Philadelphia Airport.

The fact that Gasparilla would be in full swing during their first day of training gave Lindeman an idea, and so he took his reliable pirate clothing out of storage and got ready for the trip. Sporting torn pants, a vest adorned with the Jolly Roger, a red sash, occasionally an eyepatch (when he did not mind walking into various objects and people), an authentic hat, and a lush black mustache, Lindeman boarded the bus to the airport to looks of incredulity and judgment.

“I’ve had that costume for six years,” said Lindeman. “And it has never once led me astray. [For] four years in high school, every Halloween I was a pirate. Sometimes I wore it to the beach where I would swim out a ways, then over to the next beach where I struggled to shore, pretending I was shipwrecked.” These antics never amused the areas’ beach patrons or lifeguards.

Upon arriving at the airport, Lindeman was subjected to an additional cavity search while going through security. He soon realized it had been a mistake to invite the female security officer searching him to “shiver me timbers,” as a large man roughly took over for the flustered woman.

The barristas at the airport’s Starbucks were similarly upset by the handsome pirate’s intrusion into their shop. “He kept screaming at us,” said one of the store’s newest clerks. “He would yell ‘Arrrrrrrgh ye out of scones?!’ and we had no idea how to react. The scones were right in front of him! It’s always scary when lunatics make it through security.”

It was never more fitting for a pirate to say “Prepare to be boarded” as when Lindeman did when he approached the plane. The pilots themselves commented: “We had seen the crazy guy dressed as a pirate walking around the terminal telling people to swab the poop-deck, but we couldn’t even imagine that he’d be on our flight. It was interesting to say the least.”

Lindeman demanded rum from the flight attendants, but eventually settled for a coffee and a Sprite. “At seemingly random points in the flight, he shouted ‘Ramming speed!’ at us,” said one attendant. “He might have been talking about ramming the clouds, but I can’t be certain. Very odd.”

When they landed, the team was immediately ferried out of Tampa. “The coaches wanted to keep us out of the festivities,” said Lindeman. “But don’t worry, the party follows me everywhere.”

After the Gasparilla festival was over, they returned to the city for a week of training. Lindeman’s pirate antics during this time were very subdued. He said that he only wished to plunder the airport, not the city.

“There’s no good booty in Tampa.”

On the return trip from Tampa, extenuating circumstances made Lindeman unable to dress as a pirate again. Still, through some impressive finagling and his own brand of “pirattitude” Lindeman took advantage of flight attendants, pilots, and passengers alike. Walking onto the plane, he convinced an attendant and the pilots to let him into the cockpit and sit down in the captain’s chair. “We let him in, and even let him flip a switch or two during the pre-flight check,” said one of the pilots. “It was a little strange that he kept referring to the plane as a ship, but all of the logic behind his explanations of the controls made sense.”

Lindeman was given a middle seat in coach, but again, using a little savvy, he was able to take advantage of the situation and got an elderly couple to trade their exit row seats with him. “The hombre next to me?” asked a teammate who sat next to him for the flight. “He told an old woman he would skewer her gullet with his cutlass, and hang her entrails from the mizzenmast. He didn’t even have a cutlass, or a mizzenmast, but she moved very quickly.”

“We agreed to the switch back in the coach cabin because the woman he was originally sitting next to kept coming to us and pleading for him to move,” said one of the flight attendants. “Apparently he repeatedly threatened to make her walk off the wing if she didn’t tell him where her booty was.”

After successfully getting his way on the aircraft, Lindeman settled in and slept for the remainder of the flight. “Being a pirate really wore me out,” said Lindeman. “But it was great, everyone did everything I wanted. I wasn’t able to plunder any booty, or do any pillaging, or even make anyone walk the plank. I really didn’t get to do anything I wanted. But I’d say it was still successful. Somehow.”

Lindeman Claims He Will Build a Bar

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“I’m going to build a bar.”

With these words, T. Lindeman of Philadelphia, PA made a declaration, a vow, and a promise.

After moving in August of 2023, Lindeman and his wife, L. Burton, settled quickly and easily into their new home. Carpets were swapped with hardwood, bare walls became adorned walls, and their television was set up to stream through an Xbox. Every space was filled with mementos, meaning, and love.

One room, however, was still a question mark.

“It’s the room downstairs, in the back room behind the garage,” explains Burton. “We originally used it to store spare couches, since we had a lot of couches.”

But once the furniture was passed along to friends, the room was empty, a big absence of love and meaning. That’s when Lindeman made his declaration.

“I’m going to build a bar,” he said. “And it’s going to be great!”

The goal, Lindeman posits, is to have a “chill hangout space,” where people can “relax” and “take it easy” and also “slurp down a couple of pints of big boy bevies.” His enthusiasm for this new project was clear, though not as infectious as he had hoped.

“My co-worker and I made a bet,” Burton says. “We knew it would take a while for [Lindeman] to build it and get it ready. So we made a wager on what specific date we thought it would be finished.” Perhaps embarrassed about the lack of confidence in her husband, Burton refuses to even hint at what date she picked.

But that lack of confidence might not be unfounded. Though a self-proclaimed “LEGO maniac,” Lindeman has no real experience building anything of any true substance.

“He claims he built a desk during the pandemic,” says Lindeman’s friend M. Protesto, a seasoned woodworker who had volunteered to help Lindeman in his project. “But that was just putting legs onto a single piece of butcher block. Not really much he could mess up.”

But Lindeman could not be dissuaded. He went to work researching, planning, organizing. He even bought a binder to hold his “schematics.”

Plans in hand, Lindeman flashed them in front of Protesto.

“They seemed ok, from what I glanced at,” shrugs Protesto. The question remained, would he be able to actually execute the project?

After sitting on the plans for a few weeks, the wheels of progress began to inch forward with an influx of confidence from a surprising source: in what can only be described as a bout of madness, his parents gifted Lindeman tools for his birthday. Armed with his own proper equipment and borrowing his father’s miter saw, Lindeman had no excuse not to begin with haste.

Lindeman visited several places to get the wood he needed for the project. He started at Home Depot, which didn’t have great quality. Then he went to Lowe’s, which also didn’t have great quality. Finally, he went to a lumberyard in West Philly. It didn’t have great quality either. But he bought it all anyway and brought it home. Some of it wasn’t even warped!

Eventually, the room was filled with piles of wood, tools, and screws. It was time to get to work.

When it comes to cutting wood, the inexperienced Lindeman subscribes to one rule: “Measure twice, cut yourself twice, cut the wood once.”

Things began to come together. With a Bud Lite in hand and Thin Lizzy on repeat, a bar began to appear.

Now over a year after they had moved into their home, it seems like there is still a long way to go with the project.

“The frame is built, the kegerator installed,” exclaims Lindeman. “There is a light at the end of the tunnel!”

“But not much light,” adds Burton, referring to the fact that a vortex of sawdust spins continuously around the room, blocking out both natural and artificial light. With sharp tools all over the floor and scraps of wood piled over every spare surface, Lindeman’s work is a bit of a mess. But he insists that is just what it takes.

“Once we tap that keg,” smiles Lindeman, who doesn’t know the first thing about how to operate a kegerator, or even how to properly pour a beer, “nothing in the world will taste sweeter.”

As of now, the bar is still incomplete.

From the Archives: Lindeman Burns Eyeballs, Forced to Become Hipster

On By TommyIn From the Archives, The Lindeman DailyLeave a comment

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 February 1, 2012

After several days of eye pain and increased sensitivity to light, T. Lindeman ’14, decided to take himself to the McCosh University Health Center.

“It was the first time I’ve been McCosh’d,” said Lindeman, using the students’ colloquial term for visiting the center. “But I really had to go, I could barely open my eyes. But don’t worry. It’ll be the last time I go there.”

The doctor quickly diagnosed his eyes as being sunburnt. Lindeman was familiar with this, having had the same thing happen two years prior.

“I have no idea how it happened. If possible I would never go outside anymore,” said Lindeman. “I mean, I do that one thing during sunrise everyday, but I don’t think that has anything to do with it.” Every morning as the sun comes up, Lindeman wakes up, goes outside, and looks east. Defiantly staring as the sun, he strokes his ego by telling himself that the sun, despite being so large, is too far away to cause any harm to him. Though in the past he has both sunburned his eyes and had skin cancer removed, he still holds the belief that he is impervious to the sun’s power.

“I told Mr. Lindeman that he was no longer allowed to wear his contacts,” said the doctor who treated him. “It wasn’t really necessary, but I always hold out hope that the patients’ spare glasses are ridiculous.”

And Lindeman has ridiculous glasses. The kind of ridiculous glasses that carry an air of superiority in their thick frames. Inevitably, Lindeman decided that this could only mean one thing.

“I had to become a hipster,” said Lindeman. “The glasses were a step in that direction, and if I didn’t continue running in that direction it would’ve been really embarrassing. Wearing those ridiculous frames without being hipster would be like wearing a chef’s hat around without being a chef. Or being a monkey without a banana. Completely absurd. Which is exactly how I would describe hipsters.”

A hipster, originally referring to a member of counterculture in the 1970s (A.K.A. a hippie), now refers to an individual who lives a lifestyle of pretentious snobbery. Hipsters prefer to keep themselves far from mainstream society and remain undefinable in every way possible, including attire, musical inclinations, and quirky habits. This has actually produced a sort of culture within the hipster counterculture, something the hipsters were originally against. This culture is actually definable in certain comformities of clothing, hair style, and behavior, which explains how Lindeman was able to easily establish his new identity.

Lindeman immediately set about completing his ensemble. “My clothing needs to mirror all of my cultural beliefs, while also letting people know I’m better than them. After conferring with my brother [J. Lindeman ’11], I decided I needed a pair of really tight jeans. So I borrowed some from the girl down the hall. They don’t reach my ankles, or even half-way down my shins, but they’ll do. And I can roll one of the legs up when I ride my bike. Which is a fixed-gear, by the way.”

That is not all that Lindeman did to complete his hipster look. “I told him to put on a pair of stylish boots,” said J. Lindeman. “When people see him in those, they’ll say, ‘Wow, those are quirky and fun. He looks strange in them, but they make him seem as if he thinks he’s above others and that their opinions are insignificant to him.’”

Passersby have commented on Lindeman’s boots as he walked around to various independent record stores and novelty shops in his college town: “Wow, those [boots] are quirky and fun. He looks strange in them, but they make him seem as if he thinks he’s above us and that our opinions are insignificant to him.”

Lindeman now has a poster of Che Guevara on his wall.

“Interestingly enough, my favorite haunt continues to be Starbucks,” said Lindeman. “It’s different now, though. Instead of feeling uncomfortable around the odd patrons, I spend hours there having conversations about the ostentatious ideals supported by the establishment and the negative pasteurization of mainstream media. And I’m not shunned because I’m with like-minded individuals.

“Luckily, I already have my Starbucks Gold Card.”

One hipster whom Lindeman has had numerous discussions with in Starbucks had this to say about Lindeman’s transformation: “Tommy is great, he really gets us and there’s no judgement. And he’s good at talking down about things, but then doing nothing about changing them. He just understands. And he really brings a lot to the table in terms of enlightening conversation. We’re always gushing over his new ideas.” These compliments only reinforce for Lindeman that he is doing a great job, much like rewarding a dog that evacuated its bowels on the carpet.

Not everything has been working out for Lindeman. “We don’t want to hang out with him anymore,” said one of Lindeman’s teammates from the rowing team. “He’s such a weirdo now. I mean, obviously he was weird before. But now it’s different, it’s not the ‘Oh, that little kid is eating his crayons, how cute’ type of weird, it’s the ‘That guy shaved his head and implanted horns into his skull’ type of weird. Weird. If he’s around, I pretend not to see him.”

Sometimes his friends don’t even have to pretend because they don’t recognize him at all. “It’s like a Clark Kent / Superman sort of thing,” said The Lindeman Daily‘s Linde-friend source. “People cannot perceive that this hipster nitwit could actually be [T. Lindeman] with glasses on. As soon as he removes them, they can recognize him. But then he puts the glasses back on, and they forget immediately that it was actually him. Like a secret identity.” Which makes sense in light of Lindeman’s past heroic deeds (See past articles: Lindeman Saves the Day, Super Sleuth at Princeton Elite Rowing Camp Finds Missing Camper, and Lindeman Beats Lindeman in Nerve-Racking Mobile Game).

“So is this news source eco-friendly?” asked Lindeman of The Lindeman Daily. When informed that this publication does not actually have any plans to support the environment, he responded, “That’s good. ‘Going green’ has become such a fad lately, it’s gotten too big. I’ve actually started an OCCUPY: Recycling protest. It’s pretty low-key right now, but hopefully it’ll catch on. Then I’ll have to abandon it, and maybe even protest it for becoming too mainstream. Even the whole ‘occupy’ thing has gotten a little too well-known.”

Under the pretense that this was off the record — though The Lindeman Daily is never off the record — Lindeman expressed his hopes that he wouldn’t have to keep his hipster life up for very long. “I really want my eyes to fix up,” said Lindeman. “My entire lifestyle has changed. For the better? Probably not. In fact, I’d say absolutely not. I haven’t been able to choose my college major for myself; since I’m a hipster I need to be an English major. I can’t eat whatever I want because apparently it’s wrong to do. Also, one day, I could really enjoy something, and then the next it could go mainstream and I would be forced to hate it. It’s tough, and totally unrewarding.”

From the Archives: Lindeman Throws Biohazard in the Trash

On By TommyIn From the Archives, The Lindeman DailyLeave a comment

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 December 30, 2011

On Wednesday, December 14, Tommy Lindeman ’14 finished up a lab report for one of his classes. The lab required him to grow a fluorescent bacteria, Vibrio harveyi, and find any mutations in it. Not being a very good student, Lindeman did not catch a very dangerous mutation present in the bacteria on his four plates. And instead of returning them to the lab, he threw them away.

“Yeah, I just kind of threw [the plates] in the paper recycle bin,” said Lindeman. “Sometime earlier in the year, the janitor yelled at me for putting regular trash in my recycle can, so I make an effort to always put non-recyclable garbage in the recycle bins. And vice-versa, I guess. But that’s just because I have this aversion to making any sort of effort to help the environment.”

The Campbell dormitory janitor was none too pleased to find the plates. “That […] kid’s got his gunk all over the bin!” said the Campbell dorm janitor. “I feel like he needs a good smackin’ or somethin’. He doesn’t listen to authority too good.”

Lindeman’s total disregard for the environment was made evident to everyone else through his wanton disposal of bacteria. Little did he know, his actions would have widespread repercussions.

“Once we counted the lab plates that the students turned in, we realized one student did not dispose of his or her four plates in the designated bin,” said one molecular biology professor. “The proper protocol is to inform Public Safety and the President of the University, which, despite the bacteria being harmless, we did. I’m not sure they really understood, though.”

The University and Public Safety immediately set about cleaning up Lindeman’s mess. “Between the President and our own director,” explained a spokesman for Public Safety, “a plan was made to get all of our faculty and students out of harm’s way. We created a three week break beginning December 16th and ending January 8th to clean up the infected areas and make sure everybody is safe. We’re calling it Winter Break, but I don’t think we’re fooling anyone. Who in their right mind would put three weeks between the last day of classes and the start of exams? It’s preposterous.”

The V. harveyi bacteria is actually harmless. It is found in a variety of marine creatures and free-floating forms in the ocean, giving off luminescence. The mutations present on the four plates only affect the glowing of the bacteria.

“There’s really no danger,” said the professor of molecular biology. “The only thing I can think of is the incredibly offensive odor. It really smells terrible.”

Lindeman’s roommate can vouch for that: “I didn’t like those plates in the room. It smelled like some animal died in there. But before it died, it puked and [evacuated its bowels] everywhere. Then died. That’s the smell.”

Despite the University’s ignorance concerning the lack of danger, some students are praising the final decision. “I’m really excited to take these next few weeks off,” said Mike Protesto ’12. “I’m going to make sure I get a lot of down time. Crush some naps. Relax hard. I hear some people aren’t very happy with the time off, but I say that any student against this break is a super nerd.”

The University plans on bringing in a hazmat team to clean up Lindeman’s plates and trash bin. The professors continue to insist that there is actually no trouble, but university officials and Public Safety are ignoring them because they are not as famous as other professors on campus, such as Brian Kernighan, Paul Krugman, Cornel West, and Peter Singer.

“We were expecting something along the lines an Attack of the Blob-type scenario,” said the University’s spokesman. “Luckily we’ll be shutting it down before that comes about. The scientists refuse to back up our ideas with substantial evidence, claiming we are 100% incorrect, but we don’t really value the opinions of molecular biologists. Anyway, they’ll thank us later.”

Once told that he did not catch any of the minor mutations in the bacteria experiment, Lindeman replied, “Wow, really? I had no idea. I guess I’m not going to get a good grade. Oh, well, I’m Pass-D-F-ing. But you’re welcome, everyone, for winter break.”

From the Archives: After Productive Night of Karaoke, Lindeman Expects Record Deal

On By TommyIn From the Archives, The Lindeman Daily1 Comment

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 15, 2011

A small karaoke club in New York City unknowingly housed a vocal performance that it will undoubtedly be able to brag about in the future. On September 24, 2011, a semiformal for the sorority Kappa Kappa Gamma of Princeton University brought Tommy Lindeman ’14 into the club.

“We had no idea that something like this would happen,” said the manager of the club. “We thought it would just be another Saturday night with drunk college kids playing dress-up and honking like asthmatic donkeys into the microphones.”

They were wrong.

Lindeman, accompanying his date from the sorority, was a spectacle to behold. Translating various popular hits from the 90s and 00s into the pitch of his very limited vocal range, he was able to mold the songs into creations wholly unique, and wholly breathtaking.

“I didn’t know he had it in him,” said Charlie Kelly ’14, a friend of Lindeman’s that was also in attendance. “I mean, we’ve sang together before, but that was mostly just ‘Fidelity’ by Regina Spektor. Actually, I shouldn’t be that surprised. He really nailed that song.”

Working his way through various hits including songs from the catalogs of N*Sync, Backstreet Boys, and both old and new Britney Spears, Lindeman brought an energy to the semiformal that would have otherwise been severely lacking and sorely missed. Crowd favorites included Miley Cyrus’ ‘See You Again,’ Taylor Swift’s ‘Love Story,’ and Carrie Underwood’s ‘Before He Cheats.’

Mike Protesto ’12, another one of Lindeman’s friends, was also in attendance. “I’ve never thought anyone could rival Taylor Swift in singing her songs, but after that night, I think we’ve got a contender. He’s just able to infuse so much emotion into the lyrics while simultaneously keeping himself from actually getting emotionally invested in what he is singing. It was quite a humbling thing to experience.”

Part of the quality of his spirited performance could have been the result of the bus ride on the way to the karaoke club. “We were on the bus for a while,” said a Kappa Kappa Gamma attendee. “First we did our Kappa chants, but then the music started and everyone started singing along. Tommy sang along beautifully, and I guess all of those 80’s songs were just the perfect warmup.”

However, the whole night was not as magical as these glowing reviews make it out to be. “Ten minutes after [Lindeman] walked in the door, he was getting yelled at by the bouncer,” said Protesto. “Something about wrist-band etiquette, I don’t know, I didn’t catch that part. But things were getting really tense.”

According to Kelly, “[Lindeman] looked down at the guy and said quietly, ‘Do you know who I am?’ The guy said no, so Tommy started singing ‘I Believe I Can Fly,’ and the bouncer just shut his mouth. It seemed to be a very humbling experience for the man.”

After several hours of simultaneously raising the roof and bringing down the house, it was time to leave. “We were very sorry that Lindeman had to go so soon,” said the manager. “And also for all of that business with the bouncer, that was very unfortunate. We’d love to have him back anytime.”

Tragically, there is no audio documentation of Lindeman’s performance. “I took a bunch of pictures,” said Lindeman’s date, “they really don’t do his melodious pipes any justice, but he did look very sharp in that light grey suit.”

When prompted for his input, Lindeman merely said that he hopes word of that night reaches some record labels, and maybe he could swindle a record deal out of it. Explaining that it would be sad if nobody (including himself) capitalized off of such a lucrative business opportunity, he said he believed a call would come in any day. “I may have to start off pretty small,” said Lindeman. “You know, just some guest spots on songs by Justin Beiber, Rihanna, Eminem, etc. But from there I could debut a single or two, then a full album. It should all happen very soon, so keep an eye out for my name. It’ll be at the top of the charts.”