Isn’t it interesting that when our thoughts turn to Christmas and the celebration of the new year, they immediately gravitate to the past. We head straight to Currier & Ives, the 30s and 40s, Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire, Nat Cole, Charles Dickens, Clement Moore, and Norman Rockwell. It seems there hasn’t really been a significant contribution to the emotional landscape of our communal memory and commemoration since about 1950. It comes to us – and our children – from the hearts of previous generations. Maybe that’s the essence of tradition, but the world since Alistair Sim hasn’t added much worth keeping, has it. Which seems sad.