Frasier: Oh Dad, I don't know why you're carrying on this way. We are, after all, talking about a twenty-five year-old, broken-down chair. If you don't like this chair, I'll get you another one. Any chair you want.
Martin: Really? Okay, I'll tell you what chair I want. I want the chair I was sitting in when I watched Neil Armstrong take his first step on the moon. And when the U.S. hockey team beat the Russians in the '80 Olympics. I want the chair I was sitting in the night you called me to tell me I had a grandson. I want the chair I was in all those nights, when your mother used to wake me up with a kiss after I'd fallen asleep in front of the television. You know, I still fall asleep in it. And every once in a while, when I wake up, I still expect your mother to be there, ready to lead me off to bed. Oh, never mind. It's only a chair.