After 20 years of service, the gas fireplace developed a death-rattle sound. Imagine a fork placed in an empty can, and then put into a paint shaker. "That's not so bad," you say. What? It's noisy and annoying. "I'm thinking of a plastic fork," you say. OK, work with me here. It was loud.
It couldn't be fixed because the parts are no longer made. We ordered a new one. I asked the salesman if it could be controlled by an app on my phone, and he was apologetic: "Nope, they haven't gotten around to that with this line. So sorry." No, I said, that's great! I don't want to get out my phone, stare at it so it knows it's me, swipe and swipe to find the app, punch it, push START. One nice, small remote will be fine.
One nice small simple remote.
Our TV remote is simple. Six small buttons. It replaced a remote that was the size of a cereal box and had 4,392 buttons, each the size of a grain of rice. Using it was like waking up in an Apollo lunar module, and you have to find the button that blasts you off the moon. This one? No, that dumped the fuel tanks. Drat.
So I was not particularly keen on a complex remote for the fireplace. Our needs are simple. There are two things we wish:
The presence of fire.
The absence of fire.
Well, friends, the new fireplace arrived, and the remote ... well, the manual has 12 pages. Yes, the remote turns it on and off, but no self-respecting modern remote leaves it at that.