For many years, I've imagined what I'd write in my final Special Screenings column. I'm morbid like that, hung up on goodbyes. I look at my little cat, healthily and happily asleep on the arm of the couch as I write this, and I can't help imagining that inevitable day some time in the (hopefully distant) future when I'll have to bury him in the cold, cold ground. When I was a kid, I had a hard time leaving schools behind, even schools I hated. Just the idea—once I went through those gates that last day, I could never, ever come back, a whole chapter of my life was closed forever—was depressing and scary. But that's just life. You graduate. Cats die. And you get unceremoniously fired from columns you've been writing for... More >>>