Don't Start the Revolution Without Me! - Jesse Ventura [122]
—George Orwell
In a way, here in Baja, I’m now living the life that many of us dream about—being away from the rat race. My life is far more spiritual. By that, I mean waking up in the morning and sitting on my deck and watching the sunrise. That’s something I never did in the United States. I was a night person my entire career as a wrestler and afterward. I’d generally not go to bed before midnight, and I luckily had jobs that allowed me to sleep until I woke up—because I’ve never liked using an alarm clock. But down here, when it’s dark I sleep, and when it’s light I’m awake.
My typical day, I get up at dawn and, once the sun comes up, I feed Dexter and do a little bit of reading. I keep up with when low tide is. Then I generally go out and run on the beach for over an hour. I’m not saying I go fast anymore, but I’m running in the sand and burning calories. That’s what’s important, and I’m slimming down quite substantially. When I come back to the house, Terry and I will usually have something to eat and I’ll read some more. Afternoons could be anything—ATVs, scuba diving, swimming. Or just laying in my hammock drinking imported water from Italy. Hey, can it get any better than this? The great thing is, there’s no pressure. To do anything. At this point in my life, I’m enjoying that very much.
As you get older, you start to think about mortality. I’ve also really enjoyed spending time away from humanity. Maybe it sounds self-centered, but I’ve spent my whole life in front of crowds and now I’m at the point where I don’t want to see them anymore.
Even before we left Minnesota and began the long drive south, I played a lot of golf and, for the most part, stayed to myself. I made very few public appearances, because I wanted to remain out of the limelight. To a point, I was able to, until the media got pictures of me with the crazy beard. I’d actually started with four of those Fu Manchu-type strings—kind of like Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow—but as they grow longer, they tend to get more and more narrow, so I ended up with just one. Eating soup became a problem. I had to tuck it in like a tie, inside my shirt, whenever I sat down to eat. I’m a great believer that you don’t eat with etiquette, you eat to satisfy your hunger. How it gets from Point A to Point B doesn’t matter, as long as it gets there. My daughter calls me “the barbarian” at the dinner table. Anyway, I shaved off the beard right before we decided to come to Baja.
I find that living here more than rejuvenates me; it saves me. Bringing Terry down here has made a world of difference in her life, too. She’s healed dramatically from the illness that plagued her the whole time I was governor. She’s not been under any pressure. We can relax together and simply be.
And it’s given me a lot of opportunity to think. To reflect upon the past, consider what’s going on in the present, and meditate on the future. What’s happening to America grieves me. I feel somewhat like an outcast from my own nation, that I have to come down to Mexico to get my thoughts together and find out what my next move will be. Maybe I’m just quietly re-rallying my spirits in a foreign country. By the time I’ve gotten this book off my chest, I think I’ll know what to do. And I’m hoping you, the reader, will learn some things not only about what I’ve gone through, but also about what’s happening to our democratic process—and what we need to be doing, all of us, the American people, to get back on track.
TERRY: I remember when he gave his speech to the National Press Club in Washington, not long after the election. It was like the first time I saw him give the State of the State address. I couldn’t believe that this was the same guy who would wear huge sunglasses and have purple hair and feather boas all over him, strutting around and acting like a maniac. It wasn’t that I thought he wasn’t a smart person. It’s just that he was such a statesman—and that he had the ability to enthrall, in that media world and among other politicians. He