Tag: bar

Drinking Trip Hampered by Bouts of Boating

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

Excitement abounded as T. Lindeman stepped off the plane in Amsterdam for a trip that, he hoped, would make his liver expand to shapes and sizes heretofore unknown.

“Like the end of How the Grinch Stole Christmas,” explained Lindeman. “Except instead of my heart growing three times larger because of the Christmas cheer in Whoville, it would be my liver because of all the beer in Amsterdam.”

Lindeman arrived with a group from the Fairmount Rowing Association, his rowing club in Philadelphia. The team had traveled across the Atlantic to race in the 51st Annual Heineken Regatta on the Amstel River.

“With proper nouns like that,” said Lindeman, “the real reason for the trip was clear. ‘Heineken’? ‘Amstel’? Let’s just say the forecast called for beer.” The forecast also called for rain; it rained most of Lindeman’s time in Amsterdam.

With drinking on the brain and an afternoon arrival, Lindeman joined some of his teammates for dinner and a quick pint at a local watering hole. As 2AM loomed and his pillow sang a siren’s song, Lindeman left his team and went on autopilot.

“Tommy [Lindeman] has this thing he does in Europe,” said a source close to Lindeman that requested to remain anonymous because it was his brother. “It’s like a pre-bed ritual. Some people remove their makeup, some put their hair up or clean their ears. Some people even floss and brush their teeth. Tommy lumbers around whatever town he’s in until he finds a kebab, then brings it to his hotel and absolutely houses it all over his bed. If you’ve ever shared a room with him in Europe, you know what I’m talking about. And I’m sorry.”

The following morning, surrounded by pita crumbs and shredded lettuce, Lindeman rose with the sun, planning for a day of pancakes and beer. This would be the first time of many that his plans would be interrupted.

“The team wanted to practice,” bemoaned Lindeman. “So we had to head out to the boathouse where we were borrowing a boat for the race, rig the boat, check over our seats to make sure they were ready, and then practice rowing down the race course.

“It really got in the way of our being the ABC — Amsterdam Booze Crew.”

When asked for comment about the ABC, Lindeman’s teammates responded, “What? That’s not a thing.”

With practice over, the team stopped for lunch at a pub near the race course. It was here where the first signs of a schism in the squad began to show.

“There were some older folks in the group who began referring to each guy in the boat as either an ‘old guy’ or a ‘young guy’,” said one of the ‘old guys’. “And after lunch, the ‘old guys’ wanted to go drinking, while the ‘young guys’ wanted to take in some culture. So we split up.”

Lindeman, at 31, was somehow considered a ‘young guy’ — and one of the younger ‘young guys’ at that. But he joined neither group when they split.

“I was tired, so I went to nap.”

Telling words from the self-proclaimed and only confirmed member of the Amsterdam Booze Crew.

With two days of racing ahead, the team had to forego another night on the town. “‘Another Night Falls Victim To Priorities’ — there’s your headline,” quipped Lindeman unhelpfully. Early the next morning, he joined the team at the boathouse, where they launched, raced, and returned to the dock, all inside of a short four hours.

After a quick dinner with the team, Lindeman joined a few of the ‘young guys’ for a pint (which was limited to only a pint) before they rested and went to bed ahead of the second day of racing. “Another opportunity to ABC — Always Be(er) Crushing — ruined. ‘Evening Blimey Stymied By Aquatic Past-Timey’ — there’s a great headline you can use free-of-charge!” offered Lindeman, generously presenting another terrible headline.

The second day of racing consisted of two back-to-back races, and their final placement was decided by the sum of time from all three of that weekend’s races (the 5k time trial on day one, and the 2.5k time trial and 500m duel on day two).

“Not too shabby of a showing!” said one of the ‘old guys’. “We finished in the middle of the pack. If first is first, and last is last, and everything else is the middle of the pack, we finished in the middle of the pack.”

For Lindeman, this meant the rowing interruptions of the trip would finally cease, and he could get to work: “‘At Long Last, Lindeman Libates…Liberally,’” he shared with a wide smile. “Feel free to use that for your article, the fans will love it!”

After showering off with an enormous group of men from all over the world, the team went to the finish line where Heineken had set up a large bar in the Nereus boathouse. With wet whistles, they continued on to a pub for lunch and further drinks. Lindeman later led a crew to the Heineken factory for a tour and tasting. “If there’s anything more exciting than drinking beer, it’s seeing how it’s made! And the perfect opportunity to ABC — Alotta (sic) Beers, Cool!”

The rest of the team’s time in Amsterdam was a blur of Heineken, Van Gogh, breweries, Heineken, pubs, blushing past red-lit windows, kebabs, and Heineken. Looking back on the trip, Lindeman gave his final thoughts.

“Honestly, the rowing was probably my favorite part… off-the-record, of course,” he noted with a wink. “But being grouped in with the ‘young guys,’ I need to be seen as hip and cool and fun. ABC, am I right? Awesome Beer Chap! So how about this for a title: ‘Drinking Trip Hampered By Bouts of Boating.’

“Nah, that’s no good.”

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.