LEAF ME ALONE

I, Kale

“I am not a Kale-dashian”

Good afternoon, everyone. I am Kale.

Until now, I have never had cause to schedule a press conference so forgive me if I violate certain media protocols. This is an unusual place for me, to say the least. Please hold all your questions until after I’ve made a brief statement.

As you know, I find myself the unwilling subject of a torrent of articles questioning my motives, my character, and my worthiness to appear on the menus of the world’s finest restaurants.

Let me make this clear. I neither sought this onslaught of media scrutiny nor is it welcome.

I do not seek the spotlight, only the sunlight, rain and soil.

I am not a Kale-dashian.

And yet, in recent days, there have been swarms of paparazzi hiding in my shrubbery. “Reporters” have been rifling through my mail and my trash. The crush of news vans and onlookers and helicopters hovering above my home has left me shaken and unable to sleep.

I have received thousands of death threats. I have no naive illusions about a kale’s final destination but when angry diners fill my inbox with graphic depictions of vegecide, is that not a damning indictment of a sick society totally unmoored from its core values?

Contrary to many published reports, I did not ask to become popular. At no time did I lobby the world’s top chefs and tastemakers to become their enfant terrible. I was perfectly content to live in obscurity, to live a quiet life close to the land following nature’s ancient cycles.

Let broccoli take the bows. Let bok choy snag the five-star reviews.

Against my will I, kale, was pushed into the hot lights, where I ceased to be an unassuming cruciferous veg and became a phenomenon, a buzz word, an insult. How could I predict that I would trigger an era of weaponized greens?

I’m not sure when kale became so threatening to certain groups. I’m no elitist. Far from it. Objectively, I am just like the people that hate me, hard-working, down to earth, rural. I’m your grandparents. I only want what’s best for you.

Politically, I am entirely neutral. I have never voted and in the current climate it is unlikely I will ever be allowed to do so.

To my knowledge no one has ever force fed me to anyone, liberal, conservative or otherwise. I appear on menus in various forms, but the eating/liking of me has always been strictly voluntary. I am passivity personified and yet I inspire rage far and wide. What sort of person drums up hatred for something that lies helpless on a plate?

I have broken no laws, annexed no sovereign nations. My religious beliefs are strictly my own. And, as the last few days vividly illustrate, I do not control the media.

Bottom line, I am just a garnish, not red meat for the base.

My delicate green fronds can’t possibly carry your socio-political baggage.

That means my defenders, too. Hate to break it to you, Kale Nation, but the enthusiastic eating of me isn’t a badge of honor or courage or proof of your superior life choices.

All it proves is that you like the taste and you are willing to pay an absurd mark-up to get it. The only parade anyone’s getting for loving kale is in your mind.

It’s baffling. Is my flavor really so controversial? Does my taste and texture really make you feel that coastal elites are sneering at you? For such a boring plant, my life has become a full season of American Horror Story.

Suggestion: if the prospect of eating me gives you pause, by all means eat something else. As a plant, I have no ego, no sinister agenda, nothing to offer but ample vitamins, minerals and roughage.

Plants, with the possible exception of the Venus Fly Trap, don’t hate. We are here to nurture you and help you grow.

The same cannot be said of your treatment of me.

Black’s Law Dictionary defines defamation as “an intentional false communication, either published or publicly spoken, that injures another’s reputation or good name.” And so, under advice of counsel, I will be pursuing an aggressive series of lawsuits to compensate my pain and suffering. $100 billion dollars seems fair, but hardly justice.

It’s my turn to eat you.

I’ll take a few questions. Yes? CNN?

***

Thanks to Susan Brearley for her delectable prompt:

Thanks to Toni Crowe for the five-star edit!

The T. Kent Jones omnibus never closes. Free Parking!

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