This is the final edition of “The CampChuck Reviewer.” Perhaps this 45th annual edition misses the resonance of reaching a 50th edition as the last. Even quitting when I’m 75 years old (and my being 74 is so close to that) might have delivered something of a milestone feeling.
The 44th edition could have been the last without any fanfare, leaving people who wait for their Oscar-time newsletter in an unexpectant lurch. (Could I have died?) Perhaps a more fitting finish to the tradition that has been “The CampChuck Reviewer” could have been that the tradition ceases without punctuation.
No, here I announce it. It’s only 4 pages long instead of the standard 8 and greatly compresses the narrative around predicting the winners in the major categories.