I dive into what I’m calling peak America, that is the Peter McAllister (Dad) character from Home Alone. Watching this at age 41 and the movie is now a meditation on what’s worth fighting for. I get into how the McAllister house functions as a ‘castle’ for the kind of multi-generational family life that Johann Kurtz writes about in Leaving a Legacy: Inheritance, Charity, & Thousand-Year Families. I look at how Kevin’s initiation by older brother Buzz embodies what Anthony Esolen describes in No Apologies: Why Civilization Depends on the Strength of Men, a rough-and-tumble world where boys learn to build, explore, and fight. There’s even the church scene with Old Man Marley that delivers a Christmas message. I contrast all of this with the so-called ‘found family’ therapeutic culture that tells you to replace rather than reconcile.

Celebrating the chaos, the legacy, the adventure of family life, and a classic movie for Christmas 2025.

Intro: The Drifters’ “White Christmas”

Credit to the Aaron M. Renn episode Why Families Are Fleeing Cities | Bobby Fijan

Outro: Mel Torme’s “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”

All opinions expressed by Andrew Flattery are solely his own and do not reflect the opinions of Flattery Wealth Management, a registered investment advisor. This podcast is for informational and entertainment purposes only and should not be relied upon as investment, tax, or legal advice. Clients of Flattery Wealth Management may maintain positions in Bitcoin and the securities discussed in this podcast.

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FULL TRANSCRIPT

Lightly edited for clarity. Audio clips are presented as transcribed.

PEAK AMERICA

From Home Alone (1990) — Kate and Peter McAllister on the plane

Kate: What’s the matter, honey?Peter: I have a terrible feeling.Kate: About what? That we didn’t do something.Peter: Now you feel that way. Because we left in such a hurry. We took care of everything. Believe me. We did.Kate: Did I turn off the coffee?Peter: No, I did.Kate: Did you lock up? … Did you close the garage? That’s it. I forgot to close the garage. … No, that’s not it. What else could we be forgetting?Peter: Kevin!

Andrew Flattery: I posted this on Twitter recently, and I stand by it: Peter McAllister is Peak America. Kevin’s dad from the Christmas classic Home Alone. If you think about it—patriarch of a big family, five kids, plus the whole extended clan. He sponsors a family trip to France. Late for a flight and it doesn’t faze him. He’s got the early nineties yuppie aesthetic and is okay with letting his eight-year-old son have a few days on his own. And then, crucially, he owns a nice house. Not just a nice house—as the annual social media debates tell us, it’s a castle.

It’s a castle. I just watched this movie for the first time in years. My seven-year-old came home from school—one of his buddies had been telling him about it—and he’s like, “Dad, you won’t believe this. There’s this movie where the kid sets booby traps for the robbers and sets one of them on fire with a blowtorch.” He couldn’t believe a movie like this existed. And I realized my seven-year-old is the perfect age to watch this film, so we did. He had the same reaction I had when I was seven: it’s all about the booby traps and the Macaulay Culkin character having a great time destroying his enemies.

This is indeed a Christmas classic, and Peter McAllister is Peak America. Of course, when I tweeted this, all the “actually” bros pointed out that apparently there’s a novelization of the film and it was Uncle Rob who paid for the plane tickets. Sorry—I didn’t know that. But clearly, the McAllisters as a unit aren’t hurting. And I like their aesthetic. Their wealth is put to service of family and hospitality. It’s used well. It’s used generously. And Peter embodies the laid-back patriarchal competence that feels emblematic of late twentieth-century American dads. He’s not overbearing. He’s not macho in a caricature way. He’s a solid guy who provides for his family, stays cool in a crisis, and lets his kids be kids—even if it means Buzz is tormenting Kevin every now and then. In other words: this is Peak America.

THE HOUSE AS CHARACTER

Andrew Flattery: Let’s talk about this house. The McAllister home is a character in the movie. It’s a brick house in the Chicago suburbs, beautifully decorated with lights and wreaths, spacious enough to host a small army of relatives. Rather than a cold status symbol, it’s the joyful hub of activity and hospitality. There’s a scene early in the movie—it’s the night before the trip and every room is alive. Cousins are wrestling. Brothers and sisters are roughhousing. Uncle Frank is sneaking pizza. Pepsi is spilling everywhere. It’s chaos. It’s a big family in a big house, and the energy is great.

From Home Alone (1990) — The night before the trip

“My suitcase? Excuse me, girls. Hey, sit. Hey, ma’am. Down here, Ma. Pete’s brother and his family are here. Oh, it’s crazy.”

Andrew Flattery: Home Alone lovingly shows that being surrounded by a large, boisterous family is a gift. The gift does come with chaos and shoves from Buzz, who is a jerk. But it reminds me of a vein I’ve been on in this podcast: leaving a legacy. I just had Johann Kurtz on the show, whose book is called Leaving a Legacy. Kurtz encourages successful families to embrace having a home that can be a gathering place. He writes:

“Invest in a house which is large enough to host grand gatherings and hire whatever staff is necessary to maintain a rich social calendar. Cooks, cleaners, organizers. Host dinners and parties in which you introduce local, even national figures to each other, facilitating connections and community growth. Fill the house with art and relics.”

I love that. It’s aspirational, but there’s a certain aspect to the Home Alone house which is aspirational as well. It’s a call to resurrect a kind of noblesse oblige—the idea that with wealth and blessings comes an obligation to serve society, starting with your own family and neighbors. The McAllisters illustrate this. The big house isn’t just for show—it’s basically base camp. It’s where the family gets together. It’s where they celebrate.

I’m 41, so this came out when I was roughly around the age of Macaulay Culkin. When this film arrived, it was a revelation. The Lindy effect has treated it very well. It’s probably in the top five Christmas movies. You’ve got It’s a Wonderful Life. You’ve got Home Alone. A Christmas Story is a classic. Elf is solid. And then Die Hard—is it a Christmas movie? I don’t know. It’s a great movie, but I sort of think it’s cope. We throw it in there because there aren’t a lot of other great options. To me, the other greats are the specials: How the Grinch Stole Christmas and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. In our house we do The Muppet Christmas Carol—there’s another you can call a classic.

A MAN’S HOME IS HIS CASTLE

Andrew Flattery: There’s a guy I’ve mentioned on the podcast before, Anthony Esolen. He’s written books on dads and boys and has informed a lot of what I have to say about the “man sphere,” if you will. Esolen does not have Home Alone on his Christmas classics list—so that’s a little sad. He’s got It’s a Wonderful Life as his number one, and the rest of his picks are films from the forties and fifties, as is everything Anthony Esolen has to talk about.

But I do have some thoughts from Esolen on the subject of homes. There’s the old proverb: “A man’s home is his castle.” In his book No Apologies, he writes:

“We should consider carefully why this principle is correct. Each castle is its own. We cannot have a standardization of castles. The castle is a place of freedom from, and freedom to—freedom from the leveling tendencies of the mass phenomena, especially mass government. And thus also the freedom to give a wide realm of action to your imagination. Every such castle is a triumph of human diversity.”

This is the McAllister house. This is Kevin’s house. Kevin turns it into a fortress. It’s a defined place with its own McAllister family culture. And as it is a castle, Kevin of course has to protect it.

Now, on the theme of great movies, if you want a version of this that isn’t so much on the elitist side—if you want to call the celebration of Peter McAllister a bit elitist, which perhaps it is—there is the greatest Australian comedy ever made, a film called The Castle.

From The Castle (1997)

"That’s something our family prides itself on: presents. Even though none of us have a real lot of money, we love giving each other presents. He got a rod and reel from Trace. A rod and reel. I gave him a new muzzle. A muzzle. Wayne sent him an ashtray he’d made in prison shop. An ashtray. But I don’t smoke. And Mom—well, Mom got him a big German beer mug from Franklin Mint. Dad couldn’t believe his eyes. It was too good to even drink beer out of. I’d like to do pottery. Oh, you should. You’d be good at it. This is going straight to the pool room. All Dad’s most prized possessions are in the pool room. All his mementos and things that remind him of something special. So by him saying it was going straight to the pool room meant that he thought it was special. That is a collector’s item. This has been the best Father’s Day ever. Of course, there were ups and downs. Wayne being in jail was an example of a down. But all in all, Three-Hi-View Crescent was a happy home. Dad called it his castle."

Andrew Flattery: There’s a sense of place, rootedness. And as we know, this is becoming more rare. How many kids today grow up in a home that their friends immediately recognize as having a special vibe? The smells, the sights, the sounds. The grounded, rooted household experience sort of vanishes in an age of mobility. Remember when everyone was talking about minimalism? I don’t hear as many of the minimalists trumpeting their theology as I used to. We’ve seen that trend, and Home Alone is the opposite of it. It gives us a taste of what we’ve lost. The attic is crammed with junk. The basement is scary. It’s all great stuff.

THE ECONOMICS OF HOME

Andrew Flattery: So there’s the cultural aspect, the whole vibe, the esoteric ideas of groundedness and rootedness, the importance of having a gathering place at Christmas. But this is also a financial podcast, so there’s the economics of it. The single-family home is an idea that’s been debated a lot. Quick aside: I heard a recent podcast about why families are moving out of cities—places like Chicago, for example—and really, it’s economics. There are incentives that aren’t necessarily related to what people want. The financialization of housing and certain regulatory incentives have made this happen. Here’s a clip from the Aaron Renn Show.

Bobby Fijan on The Aaron Renn Show

"What you’re seeing is huge numbers of very large monolithic apartment buildings. Often called five-plus-ones, where the ground floor is commercial and then there’s four or five stories of sort of wood frame construction residential apartments above that. And they’re all studios and one bedrooms. Everything there is designed to be like—it’s not quite a dorm for adults, but it’s getting close. It is for like post-college. But it seems like we’re building, we’re almost exclusively building small apartments. And kind of not family-size apartments."

Bobby Fijan on The Aaron Renn Show (continued)

"So like Charlie Munger said, show me the incentive and I’ll show you the outcome. And it happens to be the case that apartments have become like many of the things an ever more increasing financialized asset. So people are building in order to sell not a building, not even a collection of studios. They’re looking to build a thing that turns into a stable stream of cash flows, which they then sell to someone else. So the developer looks to build. It shows up on their spreadsheet as however many studios or however many one bedrooms it is. But really what they’re doing is they’re saying, I’m going from zero dollars in net operating income to five million dollars in net operating income, and then some pension fund or some insurance company is going to pay me—five million dollars in net operating income located in Miami is worth a hundred million dollars or whatever. So I think there’s the main driver of understanding everything of why things look the way they are. You look at the financial incentives of how things get built."

Andrew Flattery: I don’t think anyone set out to hate families or say, “We want our cities to not have children.” I think it’s been more that since the incentives are all aligned in this direction, we’ve been carried along by the flow. The reason studios and one-bedrooms get built is because smaller units get higher rent per square foot. If it costs you two hundred dollars a square foot to build an apartment, you’re going to solve for the highest rent per square foot. That’s almost always studios and one-bedrooms. There aren’t many builders who ask, “How do I maximize returns in twenty-two years?” That calculus doesn’t go into very many real estate decisions at all.

From Home Alone (1990) — Harry and Marv case the McAllister house

"Look, that house is the only reason we started working this block in the first place. Ever since I laid eyes on that house, I wanted it. So let’s take it one step at a time. We’ll unload the van. We’ll get a bite to eat and we’ll come back about nine o’clock. This way it’s dark then. Yeah. Kids are scared of the dark. You are afraid of the dark too, Marv, you know you are. No, I’m not. You are. Not not. You are."

THE THOUSAND YEAR FAMILY

Andrew Flattery: Let’s talk about the thousand-year family. Johann Kurtz’s book Leaving a Legacy is subtitled something about building thousand-year families. Kurtz points out that keeping families rooted and working together across generations has benefits we don’t appreciate as much as we should. He talks about this thing called “familial preference”—basically, prioritizing family in our decisions as a way to maintain legacy and community. He writes:

“Familial preference allows families to work together across generations. It keeps families local, tied together, seeing each other regularly, participating in the same friendship networks, and sharing a destiny. Children aren’t forced to move away for jobs no matter how destructive the move would be to their family and culture. If you give your children a stable career while they’re young, they can sooner have children of their own. This is a great blessing in an age in which this essential part of the human experience is increasingly difficult to otherwise obtain. This also means that you will be a younger grandparent and so can spend more time on this earth with your grandchildren.”

Look at the McAllisters and the dinner scene at the beginning of the film. There’s fifteen people crammed into the house. Brothers, sisters-in-law, cousins, nieces, nephews. It sounds like my house sometimes. It’s loud. Someone’s eating all the cheese pizza. Buzz is tormenting Kevin. Kevin spills the milk. And of course, Fuller is probably going to wet the bed.

From Home Alone (1990)

"P.S., you have to sleep on the hide-a-bed with Fuller. If he has something to drink, he’s gonna wet the bed."

"This house is so full of people, it makes me sick."

Andrew Flattery: Yet they’re all there. Under one roof. Tied together. Sharing a destiny. I don’t think the creators of this film—directed by Chris Columbus and written by John Hughes—were trying to preach. In my opinion, if this movie was made today, it would be heavy-handed, because today people like me would be trying to promote families and the message would be cringe. Whereas what Columbus is doing is just telling a story that existed at that time. A big family wasn’t seen as an oddity; it was a reality of growing up, because a lot of people grew up in families like this.

I grew up in a family like this. I’m one of five. I was never forgotten, but my wife—she’s one of seven—was once left at the park. The family drove off without her. When they realized she was missing, they had to go back to get her. The unintentional message of this film is that these families are kind of awesome, and I think that’s what Kurtz is getting at when he talks about building a thousand-year family. It might start with something as simple as investing in a big house and keeping your family close-knit and local.

The McAllisters might not consciously be thinking in those terms, but they still model it. Multiple generations intertwined in each other’s lives, going on trips together, packing into one house to celebrate. That is one vision of legacy.

BROTHERS AND INITIATION

Andrew Flattery: One of the benefits of having a bunch of kids is they help raise each other. You’ve got a whole cohort of siblings, especially older ones. My brothers all know this—right, guys? I helped raise you as well.

Let’s talk about Buzz. Buzz is the worst. He eats Kevin’s pizza on purpose. He lies about Kevin’s behavior. He’s got a tarantula, stores firecrackers and BB guns in his room, watches gangster movies—which I presume he exposes Kevin to—and tells Kevin that the old neighbor, Old Man Marley, is the “South Bend Shovel Slayer.” Marley supposedly murdered his whole family, according to Buzz, and keeps them in garbage cans in the basement. He says things like, “I wouldn’t let you sleep in my room if you were growing on my ass.” A little bit of nineties humor there. He’s got an ugly girlfriend, he’s definitely a bully, and he’s an all-around goofy guy.

But here’s the thing: this is kind of what older brothers are for. Boys need initiation into manhood. The initiation is often rough and uncomfortable. There’s a certain hazing aspect to Kevin’s experience, and it involves exposure to things that feel dangerous. So how is Kevin able to defeat Harry and Marv? He uses Buzz’s tactics. It’s never explicitly pointed out, but I think we can infer that Kevin learned all this from Buzz. He uses the ingenuity and mischief that older brothers teach their younger brothers to take out jewel thieves trying to rob your house on Christmas.

It’s Buzz’s BB gun that Kevin uses. He shoots Marv in the forehead and Harry in the junk as the burglars try to break in. I imagine Buzz taught that to Kevin, either directly or indirectly—probably more indirectly. That’s a rite of passage: the older brother gets a BB gun, and the younger brother is dying to try it out. We see that in our family. My seven-year-old got a workbench for his birthday, and the five-year-old, of course, wants to use the tools like his older brother. No BB guns in our house yet. We’ll save that for a couple of years.

The gangster movie is the same principle. Older brothers introduce you to gangster movies, music, books—that’s where you learn all the good stuff. And Kevin uses the gangster movie to great effect as well. The result is that Buzz, without intending it, arms Kevin for the adventure. Older siblings prepare their younger ones for life. My guy Anthony Esolen describes this ethos in boys. In No Apologies, he writes:

“We know small boys are fascinated with machines. They do not want to cuddle the soldier doll. They want to use it as a machine. A battering ram, a pile driver. Is there an old abandoned building at the end of the road, barred shut? Break a window and crawl through to explore. Is there a big tree hanging over the deep end of the lake? Climb it, nailing steps to its side, shimmy far out along one of the soundest limbs parallel to the ground and thirty or forty feet above it. Fasten a thick rope to that limb and you have hours and hours of joy. I’m not saying that no girl can do such a thing, but left to their own preferences, few girls would ever do it. If you see a rope swing like that, you will think immediately that boys have made it, and you will be right.”

It probably goes without saying, but if this film were remade today, it would feature a tomboy girl Kevin McAllister booby-trapping the house. But of course, this is a boy thing. This is very much a boy movie. Kevin is the embodiment of Esolen’s vision. He doesn’t sit around. He explores, he experiments, he builds. And when the Wet Bandits come, he fights. He protects his house.

From Home Alone (1990) — Kevin prepares for battle

"This is it. Don’t get scared now."

THE CHURCH ON CHRISTMAS EVE

Andrew Flattery: Let’s talk about the church scene and the Christian aspects of this movie. In Home Alone, we get an actual real church with statues and stained-glass windows and a nativity scene out front. You have Christ in this Christmas movie. And there’s the subplot of Old Man Marley—the scary neighbor, the South Bend Shovel Slayer. Kevin believes this about him and spends the whole movie freaked out. The audience kind of believes it too. You don’t really know what this guy’s all about.

Then Kevin meets him in a church on Christmas Eve. Kevin’s lonely. He wanders into an empty church. A children’s choir is singing “O Holy Night.” It’s a beautiful scene—aesthetically Christmas.

Again, this is one of those things you can show and not tell. If people were making this movie today and wanted an overt Christian message, they wouldn’t be subtle. But back in the day, you could be subtle about it and the message would still come across.

Kevin and Marley are sitting together in the pew. Marley tells Kevin he’s not a murderer—he’s estranged from his son. They had a falling out years ago. He hasn’t spoken to his granddaughter, but he comes to the church because it’s the only way he can see her singing in the choir. He can’t be there when his family is around.

From Home Alone (1990) — Kevin and Old Man Marley in the church

Kevin: If you miss him, why don’t you call him?Marley: I’m afraid if I call him, he won’t talk to me.Kevin: How do you know?Marley: I don’t know. I’m just afraid he won’t.Kevin: No offense, but aren’t you a little old to be afraid?Marley: You can be a little old for a lot of things. You’re never too old to be afraid.Kevin: That’s true. I’ve always been afraid of our basement. It’s dark. There’s weird stuff down there and it smells funny. That sort of thing. It’s bothered me for years.Marley: Basements are like that.Kevin: Then I made myself go down there to do some laundry and I found out it’s not so bad. All this time I’ve been worrying about it, but if you turn on the lights, it’s no big deal. … My point is you should call your son.Marley: What if he won’t talk to me?Kevin: At least you’ll know. Then you could stop worrying about it and you won’t have to be afraid anymore. I don’t care how mad I was. I’d talk to my dad. Especially around the holidays. Just give it a shot. For your granddaughter, anyway. I’m sure she misses you and thinks about you.

Andrew Flattery: That’s something Kevin has come to realize himself. Don’t abandon your blood. Don’t abandon your family. Reconcile. The whole exchange is the Christian ethic of forgiveness, reconciliation, hope—and it happens in a church. You’ve got the symbolism of Christmas, a time when God essentially reconciled with humanity by coming as a child. It’s the spirit of Malachi 4:6: “And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children and the heart of the children to their fathers.”

We’re affirming the importance of blood family and the possibility of redemption. Marley listens.

At the end of the film, Kevin has vanquished the Wet Bandits and his mother has made it back on Christmas morning—hitchhiking across the country with John Candy and the Polka band. And Peter McAllister shows up about five minutes later. Mom goes to the ends of the earth to be with her son on Christmas. Peter was pretty chill about it, paying attention to the rest of the family. He says, “I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” And lo and behold, he finds another flight and shows up five minutes later.

From Home Alone (1990) — Christmas morning

"Wait a minute. How did you guys get home? Oh, he took the morning flight. Remember, the one you didn’t wanna wait for? Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas."

Andrew Flattery: It all worked out, just as Peter knew it would. Then Kevin looks out the window. Old Man Marley waves. Kevin waves back. And we see that Marley has reunited with his son and is holding his granddaughter. Kevin saves the house, reconciles with his family, and saves another family too. Good job by Kevin.

And Marley, of course, saved Kevin. When Harry and Marv finally catch him and the game looks up, Marley appears with his snow shovel and knocks the burglars out cold. Intergenerational support within the community—the old neighbor acting as protector. In my conversation with Johann Kurtz, he talks about Christmas. In Leaving a Legacy, he writes:

“Christmas is one of the last vanishing opportunities for children to enter into an older world than their own. Strangeness, mystery, and adventure return. Mass is set at midnight. Secular normality is shattered. Christmas should be the beginning and not the end of this disposition to living the faith. The whole of reality should be sacramentalized.”

This is Home Alone. Kevin goes to church. The sanctuary lit by candles. The choir sings. It’s a little strange, a little sacred. It’s not totally explained. And it shatters the secular normality of a kid pulling booby traps on the Wet Bandits. The sacred, the strangeness, the dark of night. Kevin learns the lesson from an old man who made mistakes and now has the chance to fix them. This is weighty stuff for a movie about booby-trapping your house. There’s a sense of mystery and reverence wrapped up in the holiday. Kevin prays for his family’s return. He prays in the church. He prays before meals. He does the sign of the cross. Home Alone doesn’t beat the audience over the head with this stuff, but it does respectfully acknowledge the Christmas message.

BLOOD FAMILY VS. CHOSEN FAMILY

Andrew Flattery: Now let’s do a little editorializing. I used the word “blood” deliberately. Blood family. Kevin stays loyal to his blood family, and they stay loyal to him. Marley reconciles with his blood family. Why am I using that terminology?

What you see in movies now is the “found family” thing, or the “chosen family.” It’s the opposite message. There’s a trend in pop culture of celebrating family-like bonds formed with people who aren’t your blood relatives—pushing the found family or chosen family as a replacement for the traditional family. The implication is that the family you’re born with is maybe bound to fail you, and your true loyalty should lie with your friends or a chosen crew. Often this is veiled in therapeutic talk: maybe you need to distance yourself from your blood family because your therapist says it’s going to be good for you.

I just thought of this because I watched another movie called Bob Trevino Likes It. There’s a young woman estranged from her real father, who’s a deadbeat and has more or less abandoned her. She’s trying to reach him online and accidentally befriends another guy with her dad’s name—played by John Leguizamo. They strike up a friendship, and he fills in the father-figure void. It’s the “healing power of friendship and a chosen family.”

These stories are fine enough, and of course they exist and there should be a place for them. It’s touching and resonates, especially with people from dysfunctional families. The message is: you can find your tribe elsewhere. That can be comforting. But Home Alone’s message is different. Even if your family isn’t perfect—they forgot Kevin at home—they are irreplaceable in your life. Deep down, you still long for them. And with courage and forgiveness, you can reconnect. You should reconcile when you can.

Kevin doesn’t run off and form a new family. He doesn’t deny his family because they psychologically traumatized him—which they kind of did. He doesn’t befriend random strangers to replace his siblings. He’s all about appreciating and reclaiming his family. And Old Man Marley is about reuniting with his son and granddaughter, not going out to find new ones.

The movie rewards Kevin and Marley with the restoration of their families. There’s no Plan B. There’s no “my therapist told me I need to reject you.” The real family comes through in the end.

From Home Alone (1990) — Reunion

"You’re all right. I love you. You okay? Hey, Kev. Pretty cool that you didn’t burn the place down."

A CHRISTMAS BLESSING

Andrew Flattery: Let me see if I can put a bow on this. I should have shown my cards earlier—this episode is a bit self-serving. I stand here recording this just before Christmas in 2025. My wife is pregnant with our fifth child. So, self-serving—just like Peter McAllister, just like my old man. We’re going to have five kids, and I’m on my early-nineties yuppie dad trajectory. I will say the castle is not quite the castle from the movie, but it is my castle nonetheless.

We’re more or less embracing the adventure. It’s occasionally disordered, chaotic—we have our days where it’s pretty crazy. We will not be going to France for Christmas, but we will be taking all five kids to midnight mass. And we’ll be doing our best to keep the fruition of Christmas alive.

I wish you a very Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year. I wish you and yours the very best. I’ll be back with more Gentleman Speculator in 2026. God bless.

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Sources featured in this episode: Home Alone (1990), directed by Chris Columbus, written by John Hughes. The Castle (1997). Leaving a Legacy: Building a Thousand-Year Family by Johann Kurtz. No Apologies: Why Civilization Depends on the Strength of Men by Anthony Esolen. Bobby Fijan on The Aaron Renn Show.

Gentleman Speculator is produced by Flattery Wealth Management.

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