The following is an edited and condensed version of the conversation.

Q. Hi, Mr. Friess. How are you?

A. No, let’s start on the right track here. Mr. Friess is my dad’s name. And I’m Foster.

Foster it is. You’re a guy who’s had a long, accomplished career. By no means do you need to get into politics to prove anything. Why all of a sudden, at your age, did you think: “Hey, you know what? I want to be the next governor of Wyoming.”

It wasn’t I wanted to be the next governor of Wyoming. I just wanted to contribute to make Wyoming a wonderful place. We absolutely love this place, and now we have a half-billion-dollar deficit. And a lot of the elite here are treating my money, our money, the welders’ money, the carpenters’ money, nurses’ money, truck drivers’ money, as if it’s Monopoly money.

Almost all of my aunts and uncles lived to be over 100. So I’m ready to go.

You mentioned “the elite.” Given your background and your success, don’t you worry people will say, “No, he’s one of the elite.”

I came from nothing. My mom dropped out of school in eighth grade to pick cotton and save the family farm. My dad had a high school education. And Lynn (Mr. Friess’s wife) and I came out of the Army with $800 cumulative leave pay.

My mom and brother and I would go into the basement and butcher a couple dozen chickens every few months, put them in the freezer. And then a few days later get a couple bushels of corn. Because my mom said we can’t afford any of that expensive store-bought food. So I’ve always been the little guy.

I really had a very special moment on the campaign trail where I went into a shop where there were eight welders. And they took a picture of me. And I had my white, white shirt on and next to me were the grimy, sooty guys who had been welding all day. And it just kind of clicked that these are the guys I’d want on my unofficial governor’s expense review board. Every time I see an expense I can impact, I’m going to ask myself, “What would my welder friends do?”