There Was A Lot More To Being Governor Than My Publicist Told Me

<> at Reading Cinemas Gaslamp on July 18, 2013 in San Diego, California.

By Arnold Schwarzenegger

They say that those that want to lead are not suited for the job. Coming from someone who never really wanted to lead, let me tell you, no one is suited for this job.

I was the Governor of California for eight years. That’s a long time for a man like me. A man that has no interest in the job or much of a talent with words. My manager and publicist talked me into it. They said that movies could only get me so far, that my days of super stardom were over. At least, they would be, if I didn’t do something like this. Something that made me more than just an actor. They said I could start a charity or do a USA show or something, but that sounded boring and stupid.

I suggested running for office and they both started laughing. Once they’d calmed down, they tried to gently explain to me that running for office was a lot more difficult than auditioning for a part. That’s when I explained to them that I don’t audition for parts anymore, my manager and my publicist get me parts, and if they want to keep their jobs, they’re going to get me this one. They tried to talk me out of it again, at which point I started screaming and threw my manager’s desk out of the window. Then I pointed at the destroyed desk, looked them both in the eyes and told that them that desk had disappointed me, and that’s what happens when I get disappointed. I was Governor by the end of the year.

I worked for it, don’t get me wrong. I showed up to the debates, went to those dumbass town hall meetings and I shook every baby’s hand this side of the Mississippi. But I did most of the real work years ago. Back when I starred in such classics as Predator, Terminator, Total Recall, Terminator 2 and Twins. That’s when I captured American’s hearts and minds. I saved the day and I did it proving that you don’t need to be smart or able to speak articulately to do well in this world, you can just work out until your body looks like one big thumb, then wait until aliens pretend to attack and that’s when you kick some ass and get your well-earned respect. That’s the world I wanted to live in. That’s why I became your Governor. But I never thought it would be like this.

My publicist assured me that there was nothing more to being Governor than signing some bills here, going to some dinners there and the occasional bribe money. It sounded great on paper. The only problem was, when I got into office, they told me that I couldn’t do movies anymore. Great, I’m getting to the end of my movie-making career over here, and I can’t even make the damn things anymore? Not only that, but all these fancy dinners and waking up before noon was really cutting into my working out time. I usually spent about 7 hours a day at the gym, but now I was having to spend as little as 5. For someone my age that still wants to look good enough to star in movies, that’s a real problem.

This Governor gig didn’t pay shit, by the way. I don’t get why people even want the job. It’s dumb, it’s boring, you end up accidentally ruining a state and everybody hates you, and I’d make more money doing a podcast about cats in two weeks than I did in the eight years I spent as Governor. If you don’t include the bribe money, which my lawyer says I really need to stop doing. I knew that it was going to be a bunch of boring paper work, but even without actually reading anything it was still a lot of fucking paperwork. I expected something… exciting. Why didn’t any gangs try to attack the capitol? Or aliens try to blow up the Hollywood sign? Anything! It was so boring! I just sat in a chair and got yelled at by people on the street! I spent my whole life working out for this!?

That’s not what I wanted to do with my life. I just wanted to be rich and famous then everyone around me convinced me that I wanted to be richer and more famous, but I didn’t. I was good. I had my time when I was young and they just wanted to squeeze every last dime they could out of me. Well, congratulations. You did it. You broke me.

Just kidding! That was one of my patented jokes! You’ll never break me! I’ll always come away unscathed. Hell, I’ve even been in a new Terminator movie since then! I’m not afraid of you, of your attacks to my character. It means nothing to me. Throw those stones all day long, accost me with accusations of an illegitimate child and an affair, I don’t care, people love me. I’ll always walk away free.

I may not be Governor anymore, but I’m always going to be Arnold Schwarzenegger.