F R A S I E R (10x06) - Star Mitzvah - Here we are.
File A, slide sheet 1, image 1 - of subject Frederick G.
Crane.
- Mom! Here you are, just an hour after being wrestled from my grudging womb.
Gross! You know, if you'd like there's still time to include this - in your Bar Mitzvah video.
- Thanks, but I just want to get through this thing - with as little humiliation as possible.
- Oh, look at this! Your hospital cap.
The very combed cotton that swaddled your little head.
- Are you okay? - Of course I am.
It's only natural that there should be some emotional upheaval, caused by the impending shift in our relationship.
I knew it would come, I just wasn't expecting such a roller coaster.
All done.
Is this your guest list? Oh, I didn't realize you wanted to invite so many friends.
I don't even know some of these people.
And why are you inviting Jeremy Berman? I thought you told me he's the biggest nerd in your class.
He's not so bad.
Besides, the more people you invite, the more presents you get.
Frederick a Bar Mitzvah is a rite of passage, not an opportunity for you to collect presents.
I'm sorry.
You're right.
I'll try to trim it down.
- Hey, Doc! - Kenny.
I can't tell you how touched I am that Freddie invited me to his Bar Mitzvah.
- He did? - Yeah! What a great kid! - That's your son, right? - Yes.
- I wasn't aware that you two had met.
- We haven't.
Eh, I guess he's probably heard his share of Kenny stories.
- Yeah.
From whom? - You sly kidder.
It sounds like a hoot, but if I don't find someone to drive with me to Boston and share a tent on the way, I probably won't be able to afford to go.
- Hmm.
- Fun drive, I bet.
- Hmm.
- I guess I can just send him something.
- I think he'd like that.
Thanks, Kenny.
Hey, Dr.
Crane! Mazel Tov! - Hey, Frasier.
- Hey, Roz.
Freddie's so sweet.
He sent me an invitation to his Bar Mitzvah.
Yes, apparently the people of Washington State have made quite an impression on him.
Can you believe Freddie is thirteen years old already? I can hardly think about it without choking up.
This is my son, Roz.
The little bald candy man that used to fit right here in the crook of my arm.
"Little bald candy man.
" That's adorable.
I had a boyfriend who called hi - Is it weird to have a son brought up in a different religion? - Not at all, Roz.
It's a faith that espouses love, compassion, duty, education, and art.
All values which I cherish.
And though I have played a relatively small role in his spiritual development, he has honored me by asking that I say a few words.
And in the spirit of the occasion, - I'm going to try to learn it in Hebrew.
- Hi, Dr.
Crane! - Hi, Noel.
- Hello, Roz.
You've never worn that sweater on a Tuesday before.
I've asked you to take your hands out of your pockets when you talk to me.
- So, I don't think I can make the Bar Mitzvah.
- Great.
I mean that sarcastically, of course, Noel.
Great! You're not coming, terrific! Yeah, sorry.
Did I overhear you say you want to learn Hebrew? Not learn it, I'm saving that pleasure for retirement.
But I have composed a speech and I I'd like to say it in Hebrew.
- Well, I can translate and teach you how to say it if you want.
- You can, really? - Oh, Noel, thank you! - Of course, I'll expect a little something quid pro quo.
- Certainly, whatever you'd like.
- Great! The Seattle Star Trek Convention is this weekend, and all the Enterprise captains are making an appearance.
I need Scott Bakula's autograph to make my collection complete.
- Noel, isn't this something you could do yourself? - I would, - but William Shatner's restraining order against me is still in effect.
It's so stupid.
It wasn't even a real phaser.
Noel, don't you have any friends that could do this for you? Trust me, there are no friends in the world of Star Trek autography.
I see.
- Well, then, consider it done.
- Well, thank you so much! Now, be sure to keep it in this acid-free covering until the actual signing, and if you must handle it, use these cotton gloves.
- Okay.
- You'll be the hit of the Bar Mitzvah, I promise.
And don't be surprised if you get caught up in the fun of the convention, too.
- Yeah, I'll try to pace myself.
- Thanks again, Dr.
Crane.
- Noel! How did you know I would do it? - What do you mean? Well, you must have known I would do this for you, or you wouldn't be carrying around a picture - of Scott Bakula, right? - Right.
Hey, Niles, think fast! - Dad! - What is that? - My good old Scheerblad-7X-K.
- The blindingest, noisiest, fifteen-pound camera ever produced in the former Soviet Union! Can you believe it? Somehow it got buried deep down in storage.
But, Eddie and I found it just in time for the Bar Mitzvah.
- What smells like burning plastic? - Oh, that means the flash unit's working.
- I thought the retina-scorching flash meant that the flash unit was working.
- Not always.
- I still remember the night of my junior prom.
Dad wanted to get a nice close-up of me and Margaret Coover.
Unfortunately he got a little too close and the heat from the flash seared the gold plating off Margaret's necklace onto her skin.
You never mentioned Margaret Coover before.
I didn't? Margaret Coover.
Petite, brunette, gilded.
- Dear God, the old flash-and-wind! - Dad found it.
Yeah, good thing, too.
Hasn't failed me yet.
Oh, except for that one Thanksgiving, when the flash washed Lilith out so bad, all you could see were her hair and eyes.
That wasn't the camera's fault, Dad.
That bloodless skin has confounded even the most experienced photographer.
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