I'd normally make a sarcastic disclaimer joke, but not this time. I'll just say I had no part in creating Frasier and leave it at that.
The title is from Tennyson's "Ulysses," the poem that Frasier quotes- and is so wonderfully, perfectly interspersed- in the finale.
Dedication: To the cast and crew for 11 of TV's best years. Thank you.
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A crumpled slip of paper in his hand, Frasier made his way down the hall of the apartment building. '1206, 1207...1208, here we are.' He stopped in his tracks and looked at the door of Charlotte's apartment.
He tucked the paper in his pocket and wiped a nervous sweat from his brow. Was Charlotte even home? Should he knock now? What to say, what to do?
Frasier clenched the fist in his pocket, cursing himself for acting like some infatuated schoolboy. And yet...
A sigh. This was it, now or never, after all this time, a new turning point in his life, and who knew how matters would progress from here?
He thought of his father, who after years of loneliness had another chance to live life with a woman he so desperately loved.
He thought of his brother, who after being trapped in a loveless marriage for so long now had a complete family with the woman of his dreams.
He smiled, even thinking of Roz and Kenny, who were now pursuing new careers with enthusiasm.
Who knew how matters would progress for all of them? But there was truly only one way to find out.
To go forth, to live, and to do.
After all those years...and so many memories...
Frasier brushed away a tear threatening to escape, and knocked on Charlotte's apartment door.
"Coming!" said a voice from inside- her voice, oh, thank goodness.
There was the rattle of a chain being lifted, and then the doorknob turned-
Charlotte, her smile wide and herself as lovely as ever. "Frasier! Wh-"
Before she could ask anything, he took her into his arms for a long, deep kiss.
After the embrace, Charlotte tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and laughed in surprise. "Frasier! It's wonderful to see you, but...what are you doing here?"
"That," he answered, smiling and running a finger down her cheek, "is a long story."
"Well, I think I'd like to hear it." She stepped back. "Come in?"
"Gladly." Frasier stepped inside and gently shut the door behind him.
The title is from Tennyson's "Ulysses," the poem that Frasier quotes- and is so wonderfully, perfectly interspersed- in the finale.
Dedication: To the cast and crew for 11 of TV's best years. Thank you.
-----
A crumpled slip of paper in his hand, Frasier made his way down the hall of the apartment building. '1206, 1207...1208, here we are.' He stopped in his tracks and looked at the door of Charlotte's apartment.
He tucked the paper in his pocket and wiped a nervous sweat from his brow. Was Charlotte even home? Should he knock now? What to say, what to do?
Frasier clenched the fist in his pocket, cursing himself for acting like some infatuated schoolboy. And yet...
A sigh. This was it, now or never, after all this time, a new turning point in his life, and who knew how matters would progress from here?
He thought of his father, who after years of loneliness had another chance to live life with a woman he so desperately loved.
He thought of his brother, who after being trapped in a loveless marriage for so long now had a complete family with the woman of his dreams.
He smiled, even thinking of Roz and Kenny, who were now pursuing new careers with enthusiasm.
Who knew how matters would progress for all of them? But there was truly only one way to find out.
To go forth, to live, and to do.
After all those years...and so many memories...
Frasier brushed away a tear threatening to escape, and knocked on Charlotte's apartment door.
"Coming!" said a voice from inside- her voice, oh, thank goodness.
There was the rattle of a chain being lifted, and then the doorknob turned-
Charlotte, her smile wide and herself as lovely as ever. "Frasier! Wh-"
Before she could ask anything, he took her into his arms for a long, deep kiss.
After the embrace, Charlotte tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and laughed in surprise. "Frasier! It's wonderful to see you, but...what are you doing here?"
"That," he answered, smiling and running a finger down her cheek, "is a long story."
"Well, I think I'd like to hear it." She stepped back. "Come in?"
"Gladly." Frasier stepped inside and gently shut the door behind him.