Asked how he wants to be addressed, Ventura's blue eyes blazed. "Governor!" he said, puffing on a cigar. "I like it!"
Minnesotans seem to like it, too. Politics has never been staid in the land of Humphrey and Mondale, but Ventura's unexpected victory blew through Minnesota like an early blizzard, devastating the political landscape. In a season when voters everywhere seemed weary of politics-as-usual, the wrestler turned radio personality became the ultimate symbol of revolt. The message that registered back in Washington: if you're going to act like a bunch of pro wrestlers, we're going to give you pro wrestlers. In beating St. Paul Mayor Norm Coleman and Attorney General Hubert H. Humphrey III, Jesse Ventura drew legions of disaffected and young voters who took up his battle cry: "Retaliate in '98!" Now everyone is wondering what life will be like under a governor who casually refers to the good old days with Mr. T and Cyndi Lauper. "Can you imagine him going to Japan to talk about free trade? He'll scare somebody to death," says a local radio host known as Dark Star. "The question is, is he going to meet people in the middle, or is he going to hit them over the head with a chair?"
Behind the jokes there was real trepidation. Minnesota isn't a wrestling match; it's the 20th largest state in the country, with a $23 billion budget. "We've elected a governor that people in this state do not know," says Roger Moe, the Senate majority leader. What they do know is that Ventura is one of them. He jet-skis and coaches high-school football for fun. He listens to Led Zeppelin and Jonny Lang. His favorite movie is "Jaws." ("Shark bad fish ... swallow you whole," he recites in his best Robert Shaw.) True, he's rich and drives a Porsche, but he still sounds working class, especially when he mauls the English language. Consider this Jesseism: "My brain is operating at such a level that I don't want to put my foot in it."