So I support waiting periods and training requirements for gun ownership, and I like the idea that it shouldn’t be incredibly easy to get guns. I support the right to carry concealed weapons, but I think people who want a concealed-weapons permit need to pass a training and safety course, and they need to be able to display a high level of competence with their weapon, both at the time of licensing and periodically thereafter.
Where I draw the line is at gun registration. A law that says that everybody who owns a gun has to be on record is too easy to abuse. We have a bad history in this country of singling people out for the wrong reasons, and there’s no guarantee we won’t do it again in the future. Case in point: Do you know who was the last political leader to insist that every gun owner be registered with the government? Hitler.
Gun control is no small issue. It was so important to our Founding Fathers that they built the right to bear arms into the Constitution. But what people often forget today is that the Constitution also calls for people who choose to bear arms to be part of a “well-regulated militia.” In other words, you need to know how to use your weapon, to practice with it, and to belong to a group of shooters who support each other’s integrity. How many gun owners submit themselves to that kind of regulation today?
Our forefathers deemed that if you want the right you must take up the responsibility. Of course, we need to keep guns out of the hands of people who have forfeited that right—namely, criminals. The gun problem we have in this country is not the fault of the guns, it’s the fault of the people who are misusing them. Let’s put the blame for this problem where it belongs: on the person who pulls the trigger.
Abortion
I don’t support abortion. I could never participate in one. But I think it would be a mistake to make them illegal again. Prohibition doesn’t mean something’s going away. People who think it’s going to stop just because we legally prohibit it are fooling themselves. What criminalization will do is force women into garages and back alleys, and then you’re going to have two lives in jeopardy. My mom, who was a nurse, used to talk about the messes that would come in after back-alley abortions went wrong, which they often did. The way to stop abortion is to deal, philosophically and spiritually, with the people who get them. And that’s not something that government can touch.
This issue is far more complicated than it seems. In those rare cases in which the mother’s life is at risk if the pregnancy continues, making this a legislative decision takes it out of the hands of doctors and clergy, who are the ones that are qualified to make it. You’re also taking it out of the hands of families, who then face the loss of a loved one.
Welfare: The government is not a charity
The government is not a charity institution. Constitutionally, there’s nothing supporting the idea that people have a right to expect charity from the government. I believe in charity, I believe in helping out our fellow people when they’re down. But I also believe that government programs funded by tax money are about the worst possible way to help out people in need. Private charities are much better, and here’s why: People can get involved in the ones that are most meaningful to them. They can volunteer and make a difference, not just with the money they donate but with a part of themselves. They can get involved personally. If you needed help, wouldn’t you rather deal with them than with a sterile, bureaucratic government institution? Private charity given freely from the heart is more effective than “forced” charity from the government.
Statistically, when the economy is good, charity donations are good too. All on their own, people will give to charity. When they can, people will help out other people, without having the government acting as a middleman. So government’s role should be to work on keeping the economy strong.
Doesn’t it then make sense that we do all that we can to keep government spending to a minimum? So that the average citizen has more financial power to invest in charities? In giving the tax surplus back, we empower taxpayers even further to decide what charities they want to donate to.
Now, I do understand that there’s a difference between the hard-core, bare-bones, Constitutional definition of what government is supposed to do and the way it is in reality. In recent times, we’ve made government take on this function of charity, and at this point that role is so ingrained into its fiber that we might not be able to remove it even if we tried. And if that’s truly how Americans want their government to be, so be it.
But I get very disturbed when I see people demonstrating with signs that say “Welfare Rights.” There is nothing in the Constitution that says you have a right to welfare!
Do you know what welfare is? It’s taking money from someone who is working to give to someone who’s not! I think the people that require the government to do that for them are selfish. I don’t know about you, but my conscience wouldn’t allow me to do that. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew I was taking money from someone who was working hard when I myself wasn’t willing to work.
The right-sized social safety net
Now, I do believe there’s a place in government for a safety net of some kind. Of course, if someone is truly unable to work at all, we take care of them. The government has the same obligation to people who can’t pay taxes as it does to those who can. That’s a social obligation. When you were too young to pay taxes, you got some of the benefits of government, just as you did if you were ever too sick to work, just as you will when you become too elderly to work. I get angry at the people who say, “I have no children! Why do I have to pay for education?” Well, besides the fact that you reap enormous benefits (most of which you probably never even realize) from living in a society where the people around you are educated, you yourself got an education, and somebody paid for you!
Public education is for the common good. You might end up helping to pay for someone to go to school who later becomes a research scientist and finds a cure for a disease you have. In reality it’s not often that direct, but that’s the gist of the idea. For the common good, we want people to be educated.
You have to be pretty bad off not to be able to do anything productive. Most people can do something. We’ve only recently begun to realize how productive the disabled can be, if given the chance. People who have work to do are healthier.
Maybe we should set welfare up so that it makes up the gap between what someone needs to live on and what they’re able to earn. There are any number of needs in society that someone who is trying to ease back into the workforce can fill. For example, I think we need to have monitors on public-school buses. The driver’s job is to drive. Somebody else needs to be on board to keep the kids under control. It’s a great opportunity for someone to gain people skills and experience. They’d be contributing something to the community in exchange for the money they’re receiving, and they’re receiving skills they can build on. I believe everyone should have a job to do, no matter how modest, whether it’s delivering papers or shining shoes. There is honor in all honest work.
But here again is a place where government is simply not going to be effective: Who determines who is in need? Who determines how much they should or can earn? Who decides how much a given person needs to get by on? Who determines whether they can or can’t work? Ultimately, in most situations, the individual decides whether or not they “can” work, and the government just has to accept it. We have to find a realistic way to determine and define these things, or we will end up with a growing monster like the one we have now. There should be some kind of minimal safety net. But our government has turned a safety net into a lifestyle choice.
The Constitution guarantees you only a very few rights. You have the right to live free, go out, and compete. You have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It doesn’t say you have the right to be given money you didn’t earn. And it certainly doesn’t say you have a right to reproduce when you can’t provide for that child and do your social duty by that child for a minimum of eighteen years. We d
on’t have the right to bear children and then make them wards of the state. When Terry and I first got married, I was wrestling. We had no money, and we lived on the road. We couldn’t have raised a child. So we waited five years, until we had settled down and bought a house.
I think that as a society we have an obligation to help out when someone truly needs help. I’m a big believer in charity. I give to a number of charities; I show up at a bunch of charitable functions each year, and I know that most people do that. Most people will give generously, of their own free will, when they have the chance. But don’t abuse it by saying you have a right to their generosity!
I have a lot of hope for this new generation coming up, the young folks who played such a big role in getting me elected. It’s probably too late for it to happen in my lifetime, but that’s one of the things I’m urging them to work for in their lifetime: get the government out of the role of charity and back to a manageable size.
Prevailing wage versus living wage
Both prevailing wages and living wages are well-intentioned, but they’re two entirely different concepts. A prevailing wage deals with government policy when the government is doing the hiring. When it’s acting in accord with the prevailing wage, the government bids out contracts to people and supports unions and what unions stand for. It makes sense for the government to set a fair wage for government work. It’s good business.
A living wage, on the other hand, does nothing but make government grow and the economy suffer. With a mandated living wage, the government dictates to businesses what they have to pay their employees. Hypothetically speaking, if you get a job at five dollars an hour, and the government comes along and tells your employer to pay you seven, guess who’s going to get at least seventy cents of that extra two bucks? The government! And what happens when government gets more money? It grows! If the government really and truly feels that strongly about you having more money for the work you do, why doesn’t it just let you keep more of the money you pay in taxes? We have to avoid policies that blindly make government grow.
Moreover, there’s evidence to show that a rise in the living wage costs jobs. I think this issue should be left up to the employee. If you don’t think a job pays enough, don’t take it! It’s called individual choice. No one makes you take that job; no one puts a hammerlock on you and makes you accept a wage you don’t think is suitable.
Health care
Government’s interference in health care should be kept to a minimum. The government shouldn’t be telling physicians how to practice. What works for one doctor might not work for another. The government tends to be too cautious in the regulation of some drugs. We should find ways to expedite the process of getting experimental drugs onto the market. If a drug might save a dying person’s life, it should be up to the physician and his patient, not the government, to determine whether the risk is justified.
I do see a good argument in favor of government-funded immunizations. It’s called prevention. The cost of immunizing schoolchildren against common communicable diseases such as flu, chicken pox, and whooping cough is insignificant compared to the cost of treating them when they get sick. Plus, it would save some misery and a lot of lost school days. This is an example of something government should do for the good of society.
Socialized medicine might work as an interim measure, to get us all back on track, but in the long run I think it would be disastrous for our economy. Nothing pushes prices down and quality up like competition. I think privatization is the best way to make the medical profession behave as it should.
What I Bring to the Table
I can’t possibly tackle all this in four years. I only have a limited amount of time to make a difference, and if I spread myself too thin, I won’t be effective at any of it. So I’ve picked a handful of issues that I’m going to focus on while I’m here. They’re the three that I think will have the greatest effect on all the other problems and challenges we face.
I’m going to do what I can to reform the tax system, because the government takes too much of our money and spends too much of it inappropriately. I’m going to focus on reforming our public-school system and help get families reinvested in their neighborhood schools, because with better education and more parental and community support, kids will be far less vulnerable to most of the social problems we face today. And I’m going to keep on encouraging people to get involved in their government, to do their part to make it what they think it should be. Because that’s the truly great thing about our system of government: It’s ours.
During the four years that I serve as governor, I promise that the one thing you’ll always get from me is honesty. You might not always like what I have to say. But I’ll speak my mind. And if I don’t know the answer to something, I’ll do my best to find it out.
I have nothing to hide; I am who I am. I got elected governor just by being who I am, so I owe it to the people who voted for me to keep on being me. I come from working-class origins, and my values reflect that. I believe in simplicity, hard work, and independence. I love a challenge. I love living life to the fullest. I’ve worked hard for everything I’ve achieved. I’ve taken risks along the way, and I have very few regrets. The story of how I got here is bigger than me; it’s bigger than any one person. If you want to understand where I’m coming from, read on.
C H A P T E R 3
HOW IT ALL
STARTED
Hot lights. The smell of sweat. And the crowd, packed to capacity. The fighters step into the ring, glaring at each other with barely concealed rage. Teeth clench. Nostrils flare. It’s a grudge match, and I have to hold up my hands to keep them separated until the bell.
“I want a clean fight,” I tell them. “Understand?”
The fighters nod, grunt, not breaking eye contact with each other. I step back. This crowd is going wild. They’re blood-thirsty, screaming for action. I can’t blame them. I ring the bell.
The fight begins. Punches fly back and forth. There’s some ducking, some dodging, some fancy footwork. A punch connects lightly, rocking one fighter’s head to the side, but he keeps going.
Suddenly, one fighter grabs his opponent, swings him through the air, and slams him down. And sits on him. The opponent scrambles free and grabs the first fighter by the hair. They tumble across the ring until the first fighter ends up on top, swings his fist free, and pops his opponent squarely in the snout.
The opponent bursts into tears. “Knock it off!” he sobs. “Jimmy, make him quit!” And suddenly, the match is over.
Welcome to the Saturday-afternoon fights—sixth-grade style. I’d put together a makeshift “ring” in my parents’ basement, then I’d match up different combinations of my classmates. I set the fights up, refereed them, and went head-to-head in more than a few of them myself. Of course, the thought didn’t cross my mind then that I might someday choose something like this as a profession. This was just the kind of thing you did for fun if you were a kid growing up on the South Side of Minneapolis, Minnesota.
Why Minnesota? To this day I can’t tell you why my grandparents chose to move there. I do know what made my dad’s parents decide to leave Pennsylvania, where they’d settled after they moved to this country from Czechoslovakia. They were getting away from the coal mines. My grandfather had worked in the mines, and it didn’t take him long to figure out that they were killers. They left because they wanted to improve their lot in life—better work and better lives for their children.
The first lesson I ever got about my origins came from my Aunt Betty. She was ancient even at that time, and she’s ninety-three today. Somebody was asking me what nationality I was, and I said, “I’m Czech.” Aunt Betty whirled in her chair and growled, “You are not! You’re Slovak!” Apparently, Czechs lived in the city, and Slovaks lived in the country. My family was from the country. She wanted me to know my origins and be proud of them.
I never got to know my dad’s parents. They died while he was off serving in Worl
d War II. I knew my mom’s folks, though; they were William and Martha Lenz. They were of German origin. William was a builder. My mom has shown me houses around Iowa that he built. Martha was a typical grandmother with a big garden.
My mom and dad, Bernice and George, were introduced by somebody my mom referred to only as “the Colonel.” They were both army people. My dad was in a tank-destroyer division; my mom was an army nurse, and this colonel was somebody she worked with.
Still, the odds were against them tying the knot. My father never had any intention of getting married until he was forty. There’s some kind of bachelor strain running through my dad’s side of the family—an independent streak, a taste for not having to answer to anybody. My Aunt Betty never married. My brother Jan’s never been to the altar either, and I’m sure he never will be. He just doesn’t want it. It doesn’t fit with his lifestyle. Aunt Betty used to chew him out for it: “Don’t you want to get married and have a nice family like your brother?” And he’d say, “Well what about you? How come you didn’t?” Jan’s fifty now—single for life.
My dad made it to age forty before he married, and my mom was thirty. They were both very focused on their careers. He was an enlisted man, but she was an officer, a lieutenant. In fact, that’s what he called her whenever they got into a spat. He’d say, “Ah, the lieutenant’s on my case again. . . . What the hell is them officers’ problem anyway?” They both took their time coming to the point where they were ready for marriage. But, lucky for me, they eventually got there.
I was born on July 15, 1951, three years after my brother Jan. And in case you were thinking Ventura doesn’t sound like a very Czechoslovakian name, I’ll tell you that nowhere on my birth certificate will you find the name Ventura, or Jesse, or The Body. I was born James George Janos, and that’s the name I went by until I decided to become a professional wrestler nearly twenty-five years later.
I Ain't Got Time to Bleed Page 4
