As much as I enjoy reading liberal newspaper columnists and listening to the high-minded rants of TV’s progressive pundits, I must admit I enjoy even more, lately, the lonely but persistent voices of true conservatives. Not the screechy, preachy “don’t take my gun” conservatives. The thoughtful ones, the ones whose words are deliberate and measured and intelligent and important.
Men like George Conway. I’m sure Kellyanne’s husband and I would disagree on most, if not all, matters of public policy, but George is doing something that requires real brass: He’s calling out his wife’s boss for being a fake president and it ain’t pretty.
George hasn’t been silent for the past two years but lately his barbs are getting even barb-ier.
Most recently, he accused Trump of obstructing justice and witness-tampering.
Earlier, he told a reporter he’d move to Australia before he’d vote for Trump in 2020, calling the administration a “dumpster fire.”
George Conway, you see, is a D.C. fixture, a bulwark, a true conservative, a lawyer with a genuine understanding of, and appreciation for, the Constitution. You won’t find George amping up the MAGA faithful by leading chants of “Lock ‘er up!” You will find him, head in hands (and, I imagine, the watery remains of a highball glass once filled with 30-year-old Scotch), wondering why his wife still works for Donald Trump.
While much is made of the success of the mixed marriage of Republican operative Mary Matalin and colorful Democrat James Carville, the Conway/Conway marriage is D.C.’s biggest head-scratcher.
Day after miserably overcast day, Kellyanne suits up predawn to tackle another 12-15 hours as Trump’s trusted adviser/media basher/mouthpiece/sycophant.
And George? As he watches the woman he fell in love with and the mother of his children refill her monogrammed Yeti with coffee and head out to her waiting Town Car, he must gaze sadly after her … finding it difficult to recall what exactly he admires about her. Harsh? Maybe. But George Conway doesn’t shy away from the tough stuff so why should I?
Unlike the Carville/Matalin marriage, which has almost always been played for giggles and tame jabs at one another’s political persuasion, this is live-time dissing at an extraordinary level.
Think about it like this: If you hate your wife’s boss, would you ever publicly shame him via tweet for being a clueless buffoon? Like that ghastly box of nonperishable sausages and cheese food logs you might receive from a “friend” this time of year, that stuff is going to stay with you forever.
At some point, if he hasn’t already, Trump is going to call in Kellyanne and ask her to “do something” about George. And Kellyanne may just have to say: “Seriously, Donald? I can’t even get him to put his underwear in the hamper. Do you honestly think I can convince him to stop publicly hating how you daily destroy the Constitution like it’s a stuffed-crust pizza?”
George Conway has gone rogue. Pass the popcorn, y’all.
Celia Rivenbark is a NYT-bestselling author and columnist. Visit www.celiarivenbark.com.