Michael B. Jordan Reveals His Master Plan
If he had carved out time to build a family of his own by now, I offer, his head-down approach to tackling all things would mean either home or work would end up shortchanged.
“And that is my perspective on raising [my stop date] a little bit,” Jordan says animatedly, grateful for the lifeline. “Just because I’m competitive, and I know I would want to be the best dad. But right now, I’m trying to do my best at this part [of my life] as well.”
His love life is the subject he’s least excited to offer any comment on, remarking that his longest relationship—he doesn’t name names—lasted just over a year. The tone of his voice suggests he wasn’t shocked it didn’t go longer.
“I’m not tripping over it,” Jordan says with a shrug. “I’m so work focused. I would want somebody to fit into the flow of my life, of where I am. And that’s timing, right? You can meet the right person, and be at the wrong time, and it just doesn’t work out. I think the person that’s going to be right for me lines up with the timing with who she is as a person, where I’m at in my life, how open I am to even…to that, you know?”
These are thoughts much too heady for a Saturday afternoon off during the holiday season. If I wasn’t here, and there wasn’t a kid’s birthday down the block, what would he be doing to decompress? “Come on, let’s go,” he says. “I’ll show you.”
Five minutes later we’re roaring out of Jordan’s front gate in his fatigue green Ferrari 812 GTS, the latest addition to his three-car collection. Night drives on the highway and long winding roads of his neighborhood are his go-to method of relaxation, he says. As we hug the curves around his block, blasting throwback jams like “Return of the Mack,” Jordan explains that he already has one foot out of the neighborhood. He’s considered selling his house, reasoning that it’s too big for just him.
It isn’t hard to draw a line from that sentiment to the conversation we were just having in his basement, but instead of dwelling on his bachelor status as a form of sacrifice, he looks to the possibilities it offers. “I think I might spend more time traveling in the next upcoming period of my life,” he says. “For leisure. The workaholic part—it’s getting to a point where I feel like I could just get away for a little bit, or just not have the mental pressure from it.”
We drive around some more, with Jordan commenting on some of the “regular” things he likes to do in the area, like go to a farmers market—“For food, n-gga,” he says with a cackle, when I mishear the phrase as “flea markets”—before we end up at his gate again. Jordan invites me back in, even though we’ve already gone over our allotted session time, but instead I let him off the hook. He’s got a birthday party to get to.
