Category: Current Articles

Lindeman Swears Off Sleep, Hygiene

On By TommyIn Current Articles, The Lindeman DailyLeave a comment

“I don’t need sleep anymore,” claims T. Lindeman of Philadelphia, sporting a smile that doesn’t reach his bloodshot eyes. Two months into raising their son, Ford, Lindeman believes he has figured it all out.

“We typically put the baby down at 10:15pm after a few hours of soothing him to sleep,” explains L. Burton, Lindeman’s roommate and wife and Ford’s mother. “Then he’s up at 10:30pm, wide awake and ready to take on the world.”

The baby has been absolutely delightful during the day, napping infrequently but behaving like the happiest little sack of mashed potatoes.

But then nightfall comes and his eyes roll back into his skull. His tongue flops out to an impossible length. And he wails like a sailor’s wife who was just told her husband would not be returning home from his voyage.

When family comes to spend the night and help, baby Ford hides his dark side (and this reporter is not talking about his bottom, which he presents for pats at every opportunity). But as soon as the guests leave and the door closes behind them, the child’s head turns completely around like an owl and he lets out a screech that shatters glassware.

“He’s gaslighting everyone into thinking he’s an angel at all times,” says Burton as she rocks Ford, an angel baby . “He’s gassy and gaslighting.”

“I’m fine!” says Lindeman, who looks to be suffering from the same aging illness as King Theoden at the start of The Two Towers. “I’ve moved past the evolutionary need to even rest my eyes,” he continues through tears pink with blood.

About a year ago, Lindeman purchased a Pokémon-themed sleep tracker as an impulse buy. “I would regularly get a sleep rating of five Snorlaxs and a Drowzee before the baby,” says Lindeman as if it were something to brag about. “But now that Ford is here, the rating has changed to a single Weepinbell and a Muk. I don’t even know what that means!”

It’s not just sleep that Lindeman has decided to do without.

“When he cries, there’s no time to shower,” explains the very greasy Lindeman. “Or brush your teeth. Or wipe. But those are all unnecessary. Back in the day, people never did any of those things!” Historical evidence points to bathing beginning as early as the third millennium B.C.

Despite his obvious fatigue and body odor, Lindeman is extremely excited about his days with Ford. When the baby reached 6 weeks old, Burton had to return to work, and Lindeman began his paternity leave.

“It’s awesome,” says Lindeman, a smear of poop on his shirt that he has yet to notice. “It’s just nonstop Boy Time, which is my favorite time. We’ve been hanging, relaxing, crying, chilling… all the best things!” As he notices the poop smear, his shoulders drop and he lets out a sob before quickly stifling it with a cough.

“The best things.”

For 18 years, Lindeman and Burton will be at the whims of baby Ford. After that, they’ll be able to sleep again — “But only if we have to!” claims Lindeman.

Until then, don’t bother turning off the light.

They’ll be up.

Local Man Goes “Full Method” to Prepare for New Baby

On By TommyIn Current Articles, The Lindeman DailyLeave a comment

With the imminent arrival of his first baby, T. Lindeman of Philadelphia prepared the way any new parent would: reading every baby book ever written.

But for Lindeman, it wasn’t What to Expect When You’re Expecting or Expecting Better gracing his bedside table.

“Oh, this one is great!” exclaimed Lindeman, holding up a tactile copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar. “Feel that weird crunchy stuff under the pages? What is that stuff? It’s amazing, I can’t stop touching it!” Lindeman also perused Moo, Baa, La La La!, Goodnight Moon, and Brown Bear, Brown Bear in his spare waking moments.

“But I don’t have a ton of time to read anymore, what with all the naps!”

Lindeman has been approaching this upcoming life-changing moment in a way doctors are calling “troubling” and his wife describes as “really pretty annoying.”

“I guess the biggest thing to talk about is the diapers,” said Lindeman’s wife, L. Burton. “He’s not just stocking up. He’s wearing them. Constantly.”

Not only that, but he also insists on cleaning and changing himself. “Which actually sounds helpful,” Burton added, “until you see the mess. It wouldn’t be so bad if the infant diapers actually fit him. And the diet certainly doesn’t help!”

Lindeman’s cabinets are lined with jars of mushy bananas and mushy peas. The fridge? Just milk. So much milk.

“If I don’t have my bottle every two hours,” said Lindeman, “I’m going to get fussy.”

“Usually he can burp himself, but sometimes he asks me,” Burton said. “I don’t mind getting to smack him on the back a few times, except when he spits up and says ‘That’s the wet burp we are looking for. Just like Uncle Stephen [Lindeman, Lindeman’s brother]!’”

Despite working her own job up to the point of delivery, Burton found herself taking on another full-time role: caring for the adult-sized infant living in her home.

“Bath time is tough,” she said. “He just gets so splashy. And if the soap gets in his eyes he won’t stop crying for hours.”

We caught up with Lindeman during tummy time, moments after he had finished a new bout of crying.

“Everything is getting so hard! There are these new gates at the top of the stairs, so I can’t throw myself down them. And the cabinets all have these locks on them so I can’t get to the knives. I can’t even open a jar of aspirin!”

Rolling over and over on the small mat before crawling over to his impending child’s toy chest, Lindeman’s behavior did little to dispel rumors that he had forgotten how to walk. Crawling from room to room, he let out occasional groans and grunts when he wanted something, a wordless language that Burton “unfortunately” picked up quite quickly. Even over the course of this interview, it seemed to be replacing his capacity for speech entirely.

As the day wore on, at one point Lindeman caught sight of his wife and immediately cued up his tears again until she put him to bed and sang him a few lullabies.

“It’s the same every time,” Burton clarified. “If he sees me, even if he’s fine, he’ll cry until I pick him up. It’s terrible for my back, and probably bad for the baby too, but it’s the only way to get him to settle down.”

Beneath his mobile of spinning animals, scratch-offs, and beers, Lindeman finally drifted off to sleep. But it was a peace short-lived. Moments later his cries rang out again—accompanied by the telltale smell of a freshly soiled diaper.

Husband Experiences Woes of a Sympathetic Pregnancy

On By TommyIn Current Articles, The Lindeman Daily1 Comment

“Tired a lot, nauseous, a ton of weird cravings….” listed off Philadelphia resident T. Lindeman. “Occasional mood swings and weird cramps.

“And that’s not even getting into what my wife is dealing with.”

When L. Burton announced to her husband that she was pregnant, Lindeman took it with all the enthusiasm and excitement in the world. Little did she know the immense impact it would have on his body and lifestyle.

“I can’t let him shop by himself,” explained Burton. “He’ll beeline to the ice cream aisle and start loading up the cart.” For any other man, this wouldn’t be an issue. However, Lindeman has what doctors are calling “a disgusting degree of lactose intolerance.”

“I normally don’t even like ice cream,” whined Lindeman. “It’s these damn pregnancy cravings!”

Lindeman is adamant that his body is experiencing a “sympathetic pregnancy,” which can be found in many tomes of medical literature next to the chapter on snake oil.

“It’s absolutely wild the effect this has on the human body,” said Lindeman. “I’ve definitely been feeling the mood swings, especially when driving. I’ve never experienced road rage before!”

Burton confirmed this behavior, but said it was nothing new. “[Lindeman] has always been the type to get emotional. He weeps during episodes of Love is Blind and Severance!” Lindeman chose not to respond to these allegations, except to say he was a “sucker for good television.”

But pregnancy isn’t all sappy TV, aggressive driving, and constant snacking. There are also downsides that Lindeman is acutely aware of.

“I don’t mind the sympathy cravings,” said Lindeman. “But it’s the physical toll—the sympathy morning sickness—that gets to me!”

Every morning like clockwork, sometime between 5AM and 10AM, Lindeman finds himself face-first in the toilet bowl. And no, he’s not having a morning slurp like a dog.

“Sick as a dog, more like!” Lindeman exclaimed. “All these new hormones rushing through my bod, there’s no wonder I keep vomming. But everyone says that’s just how it goes in the first trimester.” Unfortunately for Lindeman, he is already well into the second trimester.

“It’s not morning sickness,” said Burton, who by coincidence often joined Lindeman on the floor next to the toilet. “He’s just sick from drinking or eating too much the night before.”

When Lindeman heard this, he remarked “That’s her opinion. But doesn’t she feel better knowing that I’m going through all of this with her?”

“It doesn’t stop with the morning sickness,” furthered Burton. “He’s also producing what he calls ‘sympathy burps,’ and claiming the baby is giving him gastroparesis.

“I think he’s having too much seltzer water and ginger ale to, as he says, ‘settle his stomach from the pregnancy.’”

Without a doctor’s diagnosis, there’s no way to know for sure what’s causing it, claimed Lindeman. But Burton is a doctor, and she said it’s definitely the seltzer.

“Who knows?” shrugged Lindeman.

As the pregnancy stretches on, Lindeman has taken to having a “bit of a siesta” every day. From approximately 11AM to 6PM, Lindeman can be found curled up in bed, “catching flies with my honk shoes on, and maybe a couple of cartoon Zs coming out of my head.”

Is this affecting his job? Or his helping around the house? “Yes,” said both his bosses and his wife.

“The doctor said naps are vital to the growth of the baby!” Lindeman is heard to say as he curls up with a big fuzzy blanket.

In his endless pursuit to ensure the baby has the best possible future, Lindeman has also started sympathy nesting.

“Lauren [Burton] is getting a BBL,” said Lindeman, referencing what he calls the forthcoming Baby Boy Lindeman. “So we need to make sure there’s lots of cozy places for that thing to rest and be happy.”

Lindeman has helped paint furniture, given up his office for the nursery, and even brought in twigs, yarn, and shiny things before being told that’s not what “nesting” means.

Unfortunately for this publication, our interview with Lindeman led to a monologue.

“I don’t mean to make light of women’s experience with pregnancy,” said Lindeman as he made light of women’s experience, “but it is just as hard, if not harder, for men.

“Between the sickness, the crampings, the hormones, not to mention the sympathy incontinence we get after the birth, our bodies will never be the same. We are forced to give up our own bodily autonomy for the sake of our families—without any say in the matter! It’s my body, it should be my choice!”

“Who knew 40 seconds of passion would lead to nine months of discomfort?” responded Burton, referring to how uncomfortable Lindeman makes her with his new complaints and irritating behavior.

She isn’t the only one made uncomfortable by Lindeman, who left us with these final words:

“Ugh, I need to go. I think my milk is coming in.”

Self-Proclaimed “Funcle” Revels in Love of Five Nieces

On By TommyIn Current Articles, The Lindeman DailyLeave a comment

Hours after the girls wake up, Lindeman descends the stairs to bask in the glow of his nieces’ affections. Calling himself the “funcle” (a portmanteau of “fun” and “uncle”), Lindeman is ready for the nonstop positivity that only an uncle can receive.

So it came as a shock when each of them independently greeted him with a “Where’s Lauren [Burton, Lindeman’s wife]?”

“Obviously it isn’t what I expected,” says Lindeman. Undeterred, he prepares to win them over and experience all the best parts of hanging with kids under 4, without any of the diaper changes.

And what better opportunity to win them over than the Christmas season, when Lindeman could give them presents and catch them at their most holiday cheerful?

As a LEGO aficionado, Lindeman planned for ages to get Poppy her first LEGO set, and he spent hours picking out just the right one. On Christmas morning when she opened it up, she got right to work building and playing, before remembering that her new-found fun was a gift she had to thank someone for. With a big smile, she ran up to Lindeman and said the words he longed to hear:

“Where’s Lauren?”

This is not unusual. In fact, most of their conversations start and end with the same two words. When Lauren is in the room, Poppy sticks to her like glue. When she’s not in the room, Poppy is asking Lindeman where his wife is.

“Any interaction is a good interaction,” said Lindeman, clearly attempting to hide his tears. “Really! It’s the best!”

A few days later, Lindeman traveled up to Cape Cod to win over his other four nieces.

“It’s a numbers game,” explained Lindeman. “With four of them in the same house, one is bound to love me as their funcle.”

From the start, however, Lindeman’s optimism was unfounded. Seeing a large bag of Play-Doh ready for the molding, he asked the two older girls, Olivia and Charlotte, if they wanted to play Play-Doh. He received resounding no’s. A few moments later, Lindeman saw his wife playing Play-Doh with them.

Undeterred, Lindeman caught Olivia building a pillow fort on the couch. A master builder with years of experience (see: aforementioned love of LEGO), he knew he could help build something stable and stylish, fashionable and functional. When he offered to help, or even to just sit quietly next to her fort, she responded negatively.

“It was her own fort,” sniffled Lindeman. “I can understand wanting to accomplish a task all on your own.” Lauren was later invited to help build, and even enter, the fort.

Another niece, Zoe, was recovering from a bout of RSV. A little sluggish from the medicine, Zoe wasn’t too anti-Lindeman when he approached her, but she certainly didn’t go out of her way to be pro-Lindeman.

“AaaaaaAAAAAAaaahh!” said Zoe, when asked for comment.

The youngest niece, Avery, was at first an easy target for hanging out. At meal times, she would be locked in her height chair, unable to leave when Lindeman would sit next to her.

“It was great!” smiled Lindeman. “A highlight of my time for sure–aside from one small blemish.

The “small blemish” Lindeman was referencing was a moment when he was asked to watch the teetering toddler as she stumbled around the living room. At one point when Avery reached for his hand, she dropped before he could reach her — right onto her face.

“There was a lot of blood,” said Avery’s mother, who had to clean up the bloody nose. “[Lindeman] really shouldn’t be allowed unsupervised around anyone of any age.

“Funcle? More like lunkle.”

Still, some moments were sweeter than others. Olivia played with stamps for a while, and gave Lindeman a small piece of paper that said “mermaizing” with a picture of a mermaid. He opened it to find she had stamped tiny hearts inside. (Never mind the fact that she gave Lauren two stamps.) And Charlotte spent ten minutes handing out straws to everyone in the family.

“Even though she gave me a straw last,” said Lindeman, proudly displaying his yellow straw, “it still counts!”

And while normally Charlotte’s favorite thing to say to Lindeman is “No,” at bedtime she asked him for a kiss and a hug, and said “I love you.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s really a funcle moment,” said Lindeman. “But it makes being an uncle more than enough.”

Lindeman Leans into Self Care with Monthly Trips to the Nail Salon

On By TommyIn Current Articles, The Lindeman DailyLeave a comment

“I’ll have the usual,” calls T. Lindeman as he walks into Coco Blue Nail Spa in Old City, Philadelphia. Led to his massage chair, Lindeman dips his feet into the steaming water and releases an indulgent sigh.

After the staff confirms his actual order, they get to work on Lindeman’s toes for a monthly ritual that began approximately six years ago.

“We go together,” explains Lindeman’s wife, L. Burton. “When we were still in the throes of courtship, he wanted to celebrate whenever I finished a rotation in my residency.

“I thought it would be funny to invite him once, but he’s really taken to it, and maybe taken it too far.”

Aside from one foot massage gone wrong in Wuhan during a trip to China, Lindeman had never previously pampered his feet. But after his first trip with Burton to the nail salon, he realized that there could actually be a treatment for the ingrown toenails he had developed from decades of rowing in shoes too small for him. He didn’t actually have to suffer his whole life.

“And you get to pick a color!” Lindeman remarks. “The color is free, you might as well get something fun.” Lindeman also often upgrades his lacquer to gel because he’s, in his own words, “worth it”.

“At first, it was a little strange,” says one of the stylists at the salon. “We were a little apprehensive about this giant man coming in for pedicures every few weeks. But there is certainly a benefit to having him as a client.”

The staff usually assign new employees to work on Lindeman as his size-15 toes provide a big canvas for them to work with. But on occasion, he throws them a curveball and asks for a design drawn on his big toes. With newbies at his feet, the results are mixed: perfectly drawn pumpkins for Halloween; unicorns intended to delight his nieces that look like monstrous blobs; a lovely sunflower for his wife; and classy tuxedo “tuxetoes” for his wedding. As the design requests became more intricate, the stylists would have to call over others to help them get it done well, requiring Lindeman to spread his gratuity around to more of the staff. But, again in his words, he is “worth it”.

However, it isn’t all silly designs and glamorous leg massages. Some parts of the experience are simply not intended for someone of Lindeman’s size. Each time he walks in, they seat him in a massage chair. And each time they try to move his chair back to give his legs more room. But even all the way back, his legs are so folded up that his knees are near his neck.

“It’s mostly fine,” claims Lindeman from behind his own legs. “I just can’t use a laptop pad for my lap to put my laptop on.”

And he needs his laptop, as he spends his time in the chair “answering correspondence”. To whom he is actually corresponding, we may never know. But suspiciously, new articles for The Lindeman Daily post during his each of his appointments.

In fact, some might say The Lindeman Daily returned to life in one of those chairs. The publication had not seen a new article in several years before he started getting pedicures. Since then, there have been over a dozen new articles, a rehashed and relaunched website, and tons of merch.

“The merch is to pay for the pedis,” explains Lindeman, trying not to kick and giggle while they scrub his feet with the rough side of a sponge.

While off-put at first, the staff of the salon are now delighted whenever he walks in the door for the usual — a hot stone pedicure with lavender. Or mint if he was feeling particularly spicy.

Now, Lindeman is something of a fixture at the salon. But does he worry that he’s leaning too much into a traditionally feminine activity?

Beer in hand while someone rubs his feet with lavender and jasmine, Lindeman lets out another deep, relaxed sigh.

“There’s really nothing manlier than self care.”

Ireland Calls for a State of Emergency Amid Picker-Upper Scandal

On By TommyIn Current Articles, The Lindeman DailyLeave a comment

Chaos reigned in the Irish countryside this October, as partygoers faced catastrophe during an otherwise idyllic weekend.

“People act surprised,” said L. Burton. “But anyone who knows Tommy [Lindeman] would have expected this.”

Burton and Lindeman had flown across the Atlantic Ocean to attend a beautiful wedding at the famous Slane Castle in Ireland. Despite the distance, they are never ones to neglect an opportunity to celebrate love and cut some rugs. And soon after landing on the Emerald Isle, the wedding day arrived.

The evening at the castle started off with gusto and pizzazz — a beautiful wedding ceremony and delicious meal were followed by dancing into the night. When 10:30PM loomed and the band departed, the celebrants descended into the castle’s basement. There, the festivities continued deep into the night with dancing in the castle’s hidden nightclub.

It wasn’t until dawn that anyone noticed that anything was amiss. In the dim morning light, bruised bones and stained clothes revealed a populace unprepared for the type of evening Lindeman brought to the fore (and to the floor).

“Yup, it was Tommy [Lindeman],” said K. Votta, the wedding’s beautiful blushing bride. “I had a feeling it would happen — anyone would — but the degree of carnage was wholly unexpected.” Indeed, Irish authorities say the country had never seen such a slaughter.

This publication has been able to dive deep into the evidence and piece together what happened in Slane Castle that night:

When Lindeman is having a good time, he becomes what in some circles is known as a “picker-upper.”

“I pick people up,” explained Lindeman. Notably, Lindeman did not say he also becomes a “putter-downer.”

“He dropped so many people,” said A. Conyngham, the owner of the castle, who had ventured down into the nightclub to see how the night was going. “I don’t know how he was able to get through so many. It was horrifying.”

While Lindeman claims to have been stable throughout the night, evidence points to an early lapse into picker-uppering.

“We tried to put Kaitlyn [the bride] on our shoulders during the start of the reception,” said M. Protesto, another partygoer who occasionally partakes in responsible picker-uppering. “But as soon as we started tossing her in the air, he was clearly losing control of the situation. I had to single-handedly save the bride.”

Lindeman is adamant that the floors were to blame, though he was the only guest in a wedding of over 200 people that seemed to have trouble.

“They were slippery as hell!” Lindeman tried to argue unsuccessfully. “No one could be expected to stay on their feet!” Camera evidence shows that only Lindeman had trouble remaining upright.

As the night grew long, Lindeman grew bolder, picker-uppering more and more wedding guests and cultivating a scene of such devastation, the country of Ireland had to put in place a State of Emergency.

Slane Castle, originally built in the 18th century and maintained in perfect condition every since, felt the trauma of Lindeman’s presence. The castle steps, already indented by centuries of feet, wore down in a single night at a rate that would normally be seen over 100 years of activity. Lindeman’s inability to maintain his feet wore them down with heretofore unseen speed.

“I will say my tailbone was definitely bruised and uncomfy [sic] on the flight home,” said one of Lindeman’s victims. “Not the first time I have ended up on the ground and definitely will not be the last.”

Channeling the late-90s band Drowning Pool, Lindeman continued to “Let the Bodies Hit the Floor” throughout the night. Unfortunately for him, his picker-upper-ees were not the only ones scathed.

“My knees are devastated,” exclaimed Lindeman, attempting to say that no one can blame him because he’s also sore. “And I’m going to climb mountains tomorrow!”

This publication has no empathy for a remorseless picker-upper. Especially one that did the unforgivable.

“I dropped Buck [the groom],” moaned Lindeman. “At least he seemed to bounce,” he continued, though it was clear that even he did not believe his own words.

Luckily the bruises will fade, and even thoughts of falling will orange and fall from the tree of memory. It will be as if the picker-uppering fiasco never happened, perhaps a distant dream. All anyone will remember will be an evening of joy, dancing, love, and most importantly, Guinness.

“That’s not true at all,” said the victims in unison.

Lindeman Claims He Will Build a Bar

On By TommyIn Current Articles, The Lindeman DailyLeave a comment

“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.

With Implants and Filler, Lindeman Readies for Reality

On By TommyIn Current Articles, The Lindeman DailyLeave a comment

“I really think this is going to be it for me,” remarked Tommy Lindeman as he waited anxiously in the waiting room of his doctor’s office. “This will be the moment I rocket to stardom.”

Lindeman was visiting the office for his most recent body augmentation procedure. This time, he would be getting filler.

“The trick is to make it seem like essential health care, you know, to get the insurance company to pay for it,” explained Lindeman. “Otherwise, body work gets expensive!”

“[Lindeman] has been complaining of sore throats for the last three years,” said his wife, L. Burton. “I told him to get it checked out for that entire time, but did he listen to me? No.

“It wasn’t until I mentioned that filler might be an option that he actually made the appointment.”

After an initial meeting with a laryngologist, Lindeman was diagnosed with an atrophied vocal cord, probably due to a nasty bout of COVID-19 at the end of 2020. And the treatment plan was exactly what he was hoping for.

“Fill me up, baby!” Lindeman is said to have exclaimed loudly over and over after his diagnosis. The doctor would inject filler into his vocal cord to, according to medical jargon, “plump that puppy up.” Lindeman was ecstatic.

“Honestly, I’ll do anything for the paycheck,” Lindeman’s laryngologist said. “If he wants it, and he’ll pay out the wazoodle for it, who am I to judge?”

The filler procedure is only the latest in a long list of body enhancements that Lindeman has been pursuing. Most recently, he augmented himself with a pair of implants.

“Everyone should be able to have their physical body match what they feel in their heart of hearts it should truly be,” explained Lindeman. “For the longest time, I believed my body was limiting my true self. And so I got a pair of great silicon implants to make my vision my reality. Who would stop that?”

Lindeman referred to his ocular implants as “vision-affirming surgery,” ending three decades of imperfect vision.

Between his implants and his filler, Lindeman hopes to become perfect enough to be cast in the pinnacle of stardom: reality television.

“You look at a lot of reality TV shows, and all the actors and actresses have some kind of work done,” said Lindeman. “Age has no effect on them, they have become their truest selves — and the camera eats it up! So I’m looking to get eaten up too.

“I haven’t heard anything yet, but it’s early days.”

So what’s next for Lindeman in his Frankensteinian mission to slice and dice his body into reality TV’s next himbo? Tattooed eyebrows? Knee extensions? A BBL?

Lindeman smiles at the question and winks with both eyes. “Only time will tell!”

The Voice of the Ivy League on ESPN+

On By TommyIn Current Articles, The Lindeman DailyLeave a comment

Keanan Clark and Tommy Lindeman settled into their padded chairs at the announcers’ desk, donned their headsets and began their mic checks.

“Check one, two, check one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, and so on and so forth.”

For their second year in a row, Clark and Lindeman announced the home races for all the Princeton rowing teams on Lake Carnegie. A seven-week commitment, the pair were what some of the more ignorant in the league would call “seasoned veterans”.

Clearing their throats, the two Princeton alumni began their vocal exercises before go-time. Unfortunately for this journalist, Clark and Lindeman were on vocal rest, and so could not answer any questions.

But the fans provided enough context for us to write this story.

“We love tuning in and watching the chuckleheads every week,” said one international viewer from Montenegro. “It seems like every time a boat heads down the course, they’ll have some sort of back-and-forth that gets them tied up with chuckles for a large portion of the race, before remembering they have to get back to commentating.”

The widely watched “giggliest announcers on ESPN” didn’t start with commentating on the biggest broadcaster of sports.

Clark has been providing play-by-play commentary for the Princeton Tigers for several years, though it began as more of a “pirate radio” broadcast run by the rowing programs. Eventually, the University saw the huge viewership numbers and decided to work out a deal to get the pirate on ESPN.

With the elevated reach, Clark knew he wasn’t up to the challenge to do it himself, so in 2023 he tapped former colleague and former expert, Lindeman, to join him in the media launch every week. In wind and rain, they drove alongside the racing crews, providing inaccurate insights and the occasional tidbit of knowledge.

With this new platform came a repositioning. No longer referring to themselves by name, they began presenting themselves as “The Voice of the Ivy League on ESPN.” They hired former Princeton coach and namesake of the Gartland Goblet race, Joe Gartland, as Director of Branding. Gartland pushed them to think outside the box, to reach for new heights, and, most importantly, to expand the brand. With the guidance of their “Third Voice,” they did.

But still, the fans clamored for more, and the University answered. With 2024 came an increased budget, additional support staff, and a full level-up in technology.

No longer sitting in the launch on the water, the duo were moved to the University’s broadcasting booth in the basement of Jadwin Gym. Replete with chairs, a desk, monitors, and cough buttons, Clark and Lindeman finally hit the big time. The biggest change was realizing at the end of the day they were still dry.

The Princeton coaches have enjoyed the increased investment as much as the fans at home.

“Clark and Lindeman are great,” said one coach anonymously. “They almost always get the event names right, and are able to read the schedule near-flawlessly. It’s pretty close to being better than the alternative, which is dead air.”

Another coach also had nothing but praise: “Good for them! I know they both need a reason to get out of the house.”

Commentating for Princeton began when T. Heebink, the Tigers’ boathouse administrator, invited Clark to commentate from the media launch. The maestro behind all the regattas on Lake Carnegie. Heebink coordinates scheduling, travel logistics, quippy insights, even the Jersey Mike’s lunch order for volunteers at the end of the day. He was happy when Clark brought on Lindeman as his co-host since the increased popularity it brought led to a higher budget — and he also benefited from this year’s upgrades.

“It’s really hard to see when your head is in the clouds,” said Heebink, referring to his new role of cameraman in the Ford Family-sponsored hot air balloon. “But the fans seem to love the new angles. And as I always say, if you have to crash, make sure you can get up to crash again.”

Clark and Lindeman have developed a rapport over the last two seasons: Clark provides the play-by-play, and Lindeman provides the color commentary. Lindeman’s commentary is largely unprepared; he cannot seem to pronounce most of the rowers’ names, and even the “Johns” and “Smiths” give him trouble when trying to provide color. Clark is terrible at providing readings of distance between boats. Between the two, they are the only rowing announcers in the league that cannot reliably give accurate margins.

Somehow, it works for them.

A recent interview of the Princeton coaches by the IRA Rowing Insiders Podcast had the interviewers asking, “Where did you get commentators who refer to your rowers as ‘The Mailmen’ because they keep ‘sending it’?” The praise keeps coming from all sides.

Now that the season has finished, the fans have spoken: they want more. So look ahead to next spring for more commentary from Clark and Lindeman. Or, go visit their houses unannounced, where you’ll find them constantly providing commentary on other events, off-the-air. The very special VIP “narrowcasts” are reserved for only the lucky few, and see the pair giving play-by-play on things such as The Eras Tour (Taylor’s Version), WWE events, and each other’s performance in Rock Band 4.

What’s next for The Voice of the Ivy League on ESPN? They have already turned down several requests to cover other events, including the IRA National Championships this June.

Will we have to wait an entire year to hear from them again on ESPN?

Time will tell.

Lindeman Daily Triple-Pack: Italy 2023

On By TommyIn Current Articles, The Lindeman DailyLeave a comment

A special Lindeman Daily triple-pack: three articles for the price of one! (Please remember to pay your Lindeman Daily writers.)

Fighting Fire with Fire: Heat Wave Does Little to Solve GERD

Italy has been unseasonably hot during the second and third weeks of July this year, but it’s not just the temperature that’s causing people to sweat and moan as they make their way through the day.

“Haaaaaaagggghhhttt,” said Lindeman, who has already sweated through two tank-tops and a pair of color-changing swim trunks.

According to Lindeman, things were “heating up”. After a few days on the Amalfi coast, hoofing it up and down a mountain between the beach and his Airbnb, he was hurting. Panting his way through the congested, twisting footpaths that make up the main roads of Positano, Lindeman surmised that he needed to drink at least four Peronis at the beginning and end of each walk to replenish the fluids lost to the sun.

“Si, it’s certainly molto caldo,” said one local Positani resident. “But that [Linde]man perspired more than most!”

Lindeman has attempted to douse the flames on his flesh with swimming. “We’ve gone to the beach, taken a boat out, swam in some caves — underwater caves, overwater caves, lots of different caves. But that’s only solving half the problem.”

The heat wasn’t only coming from the outside, but the inside as well. The Lindeman Daily’s medical correspondent, L. Burton, MD, explained that a rapid influx of acidic foods, such as pastas, tomato-based sauces, and all the other delicious foods Italy is famous for, can exacerbate the symptoms of people suffering from GERD.

GERD is short for gastroesophageal reflux disease, a chronic disease in which stomach acid flows up into the esophagus. It can lead to a burning feeling in the chest and throat, stomach pain, bad breath, and vomiting.

“Not only is the burning vomit really painful,” said Dr. Burton, “but the burps are smelly too, and the groans are generally unpleasant.”

Each day, both Lindeman and Burton enjoyed the culinary delights of coastal Italy, and each night both were filled with the fires of Vesuvius.

“There was no escape,” said Lindeman. “You’d be roasting in the heat all day, going from grape-mode to raisin-mode. Then when you’d finally get home to rest in some air conditioning, the lava would flow from within, scorching you from the inside out.”

When asked why they didn’t simply avoid the sun, they both argued that they couldn’t resist taking in all Italy had to offer. And so, the allure of the pizzas, pastas, and vistas kept their fires burning day and night.

When asked for a final comment, both Lindeman and Burton gasped in unison with the sour breath of burning GERD, “Worth it.”

The Truth Comes Out: Romantic Holiday Just an Excuse to Play on Phone

On July 18, T. Lindeman’s reason for choosing Italy as the destination for his sabbatical from work (despite the country suffering from an unseasonal, climate change-driven heatwave) became crystal clear.

“I can’t believe this is why,” remarked his wife, L. Burton. “Sure, everything we’ve done has been wonderful: the boats, the cooking classes, the beaches, the food, the Tommy [Lindeman] in a bathing suit, everything.

“But to finally know his real reason for picking Italy… just… wow.”

“Wow” indeed. As it turns out, Lindeman’s entire trip, from the first five days in Positano touring Capri and Nerano, to the final two days in Naples, exploring the ruins of Pompeii and the vineyards on the slopes of Mt. Vesuvius, had all been a second fiddle excuse for one 20 minute experience on a hotel balcony in Naples.

“So what?” asked Lindeman. “I don’t see anything wrong with building a vacation out of one keystone moment. Lots of people go to Peru, don’t tell me there’s any other reason besides Machu Picchu that people even begin to consider a trip there. And London, is anyone really traveling there for anything other than the kebabs? Sure, the Eye is a close second, but it’s garnish to the kebab experience. This was a similar thing.”

According to several eyewitness accounts, that Napolitano hotel balcony was the site where Lindeman met up with a fellow Pokémon Go player to trade Pokémon.

“It’s not even like this is a novel experience for him,” said Burton. “He’s traded with several other friends in the past. I mean, even his younger brother [Lindeman] plays!”

“No, it isn’t really any different than that,” admitted Lindeman. “But there was an opportunity, so why not take it?”

The details of the trade itself are scarce, though juicy gossip abounds. Some unsubstantiated rumors say that the other party in the trade was a seven-year-old boy from Minnesota. And that Lindeman traded a “Best Buddy” status Hydreigon for a nothing-to-write-home-about Crabrawler. And that soon after their first and only trade, the parental controls on the boy’s mother’s phone locked him out of playing any more that day. But Lindeman is adamant: that is not what matters here.

“Sometimes it isn’t the details that make something great,” ventured Lindeman, holding up pinched fingers and adopting a far-off look. “It’s about the people and the experience… but yes, that kid made out like a thief.”

At the end of the day, though, Lindeman has no regrets. Even his wife remains cheery after learning the circumstances of their trip.

“If it makes him happy, I’m happy,” smiled Burton. “Happy husband, happy life, right? And I got to roast in the Italian heat, so it was a win for everyone.”

Lindeman Takes in Authentic Real Italian Experiences

Over the course of a week-long stay in Italy, Lindeman was on the hunt.

“We wanted to experience true, authentic Italy,” explained Lindeman. “My wife [The Lindeman Daily’s medical correspondant L. Burton] and I had both individually traveled to other parts of Italy in the past, but never felt like we truly scratched the surface of a Real Italian Experience™.”

The couple planned their trip ahead of time, booking reservations, tours, cooking classes, and boat rentals. But it wasn’t in any of the standard fare where they found what they had been craving all their lives.

“If we hadn’t felt the Real Italian Experience™ later on,“ said Burton, “I think I would have been happy with a simple cooking class and boat day.”

“But then we experienced the Real Italian Experience™, and now we know what we were missing,” added Lindeman. It is no single moment that makes a Real Italian Experience™, Lindeman explained, but an all-encompassing feeling of La Vera Italia that comes from a cumulative lived experience.

When local Italians were asked about this, not a single one knew what Lindeman had been talking about.

First, Lindeman and Burton strolled through cliff sides of Positano, exploring shops, bakeries, and pizzerias, before Lindeman decided to take the plunge.

“I was seeing shirts with lemons on them everywhere,” recounted Lindeman. “It must be an Amalfi Coast thing, but I loved it, and needed one.”

“[Lindeman] is notoriously hard to shop for,” explained Burton. “Not only because of his weird body shape, but he’s pretty picky too.”

But through perseverance, Lindeman succeeded. Unable to try anything on as his body was both soaked and caked in sweat, Lindeman took a gamble and sized up two sizes (“Because the Italians are teensy!”). Paying for two linen shirts, one covered in lemons and one in oranges, it wasn’t until he had returned to his room to shower and change that he noticed something was a little off.

“The shirt sleeves were too tight!” exclaimed Lindeman. “The length and size in the chest were both right but the sleeves were constricting my pythons. And I don’t have big pythons.”

Lindeman was later told by a local friend that this was the real Italian style. And he realized he was experiencing something beyond a typical adventure. Was Lindeman on his way to a Real Italian Experience™?

“Tight shirt sleeves? Real Italian Experience™.”

Lindeman and Burton next traveled to Naples, where they took a day trip out to Pompeii and a series of vineyards on the Vesuvius volcano.

“The sweltering heat was a real Pompeii experience,” remarked Burton, noting that the temperatures reached record highs during their visit. “But a real Pompeii experience is not a Real Italian Experience™.”

Lindeman kept eying the volcano with suspicion, refusing to take his eyes off it to make sure it didn’t blow; if it did, he would be the first to know and could book it out of there.

“The American was completely ignoring us,” recounted Teresa, their tour guide through the volcanic vineyards. “Even when we handed him his wine tastings, he never looked away from the volcano.”

After a few hours of this staring contest, Lindeman had an epiphany. Is this fear of a volcanic eruption at any moment, of being incinerated instantly, the experience he had been searching for?

“The ever-present danger of being cooked alive? Real Italian Experience™.”

Eventually, Lindeman and Burton escaped the slopes of Vesuvius unscathed, and returned to Naples for a birthday party.

“Some friends of ours were attending their father’s birthday at the yacht club in Naples,” explained Burton. “They very very graciously invited us to come along.”

The pair met at the yacht club, just barely arriving on time. They soon learned that this was not required, or even preferred.

“Apparently in Italy,” said Lindeman, “being on time is being early. And arriving hours late is arriving on time.”

Indeed, the birthday boy himself did not even show up until two hours into his own party, and guests continued to trickle in for hours beyond that.

“It was a wild time,” said Burton. “There was a lot of singing, gifts from the Pope, who the man of the hour seemed to know personally, and a seven course meal.”

It was a real Neapolitano experience, but as they knew from Pompeii, that does not mean it was a Real Italian Experience™.

“As authentic as it was, there was something missing,” reminisced Lindeman. But that “something missing” would soon be found.

Hours into the party, Lindeman and Burton were fading fast and sleep couldn’t come soon enough. While they tried to put on a brave face, the week of travel in the sun had drained every last bit of energy from them. A bit bashful, they had to excuse themselves and head home.

“They were only three courses into the seven course meal!” explained one partygoer. “It was only 11:30PM! There were hours and hours left in the night!”

They left before any other attendees, including a group of children all under 10 years old. But they swallowed their pride and missed out on what would be a memorable night for the ages.

“That’s ok by us. But the invitation, followed by the festivities, and then the shame of leaving early, that’s what we had been looking for the whole time,” said Lindeman. “And coupled with the shopping and the threatening volcano, our trip ultimately provided that authentic lived experience we had craved.

We truly had a Real Italian Experience™.”