For 18 years you fought a nightly crusade for control of the television. Like a samurai with his sword, your father protected his remote during dinner, while seated on his porcelain pedestal and while snoring loud enough to wake the dead. An air horn wouldn't rouse him, but a mere footstep towards the volume setting was perceived as a sign of aggression. Yep, Dad's a pretty special guy. Yet you, like so many other sons across this great land, forgot about Father's Day. And forgiveness comes at a cost. So what better sign of devotion than to purchase your pop that which you so brilliantly battled for throughout your childhood—a remote.