In the final tally, Ventura's election numbers were staggering--not just for the amount of votes he received but for who cast them. Ventura carried every age group under 60 and every income level under $100,000, according to exit polls. In Anoka County, a blue-collar community outside the Twin Cities, clerks were astounded to see twentysomethings lined up outside polling places, many voting for the first time. "I voted for Jesse because he was the most honest," said 24-year-old Amanda Larson, who heard about him on a classic-rock station. "If he doesn't know something, he says he doesn't know." The rebellious-youth vote was much in evidence at Ventura's victory party at a racetrack, where backers danced in a mosh pit and chanted "Packers suck!" for no apparent reason. Ventura told the crowd that a lot of people would now be eating crow. It seems some of his followers took him a little too literally; one of his radio rivals arrived at the studio to find a dead crow on ice.

The upset probably couldn't have happened in most states. For one thing, Minnesota is generous with matching funds for alternative parties. And it allows same-day registration, enabling thousands of students to show up and vote on a whim. Still, insiders found themselves in awe of what Ventura had done. Now they want to know: how will Jesse Ventura govern? Just about everyone agrees that he's decent and quick. "He's got a lot of street smarts," says Jennifer Waters, who was once Ventura's on-air sidekick. "But he's a lazy reader. He's just not disciplined." Business leaders are jittery but hopeful. "He's captured people's imaginations," says Marilyn Nelson, CEO of the $820 billion Carlson Cos. "If he can use the same skills to mobilize the people of Minnesota, how lucky can we get?"