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Well, I've stripped, cleaned parts, identified parts, repaired parts, made new parts, and re-assembled the Fl****er 2100 mount-cutter. I am still waiting for the delivery of two new components for it, which will be delivered to my workshop during this coming week.
These components; a top-stop and a bottom-stop, were probably never on the machine when it was purchased new, as they are catalogued as being optional extra assemblies.
However, the mount-cutter is now functional.
I was keen to try it out, once it was performing to the best that could be expected from it.
My mount cutter has a sheet capacity of 32'' and is, by comparison - theoretically, at least, a DIY piece of kit.
The Fl****er 2100 will cut 48'' board. It has both of the straight and bevel cutter heads built into the clamp rail. And, whilst admittedly sounding like a tin-bucket-full-of-rusty-nails, because the baseboard is hollow extruded aluminium and so amplifies the sound of the head bearings traversing across the clamp bar, it should outstrip my DIY cutter by the proverbial mile.
However, this is where its deficiency becomes obvious.
It doesn't subtly intimate that there may be a deficiency.
It doesn't give any warning that a problem is about to present itself.
Oh, no !!! The Fl****er 2100 drops its trousers and exposes itself like a pervert on the platform of the local railway station.
If you want to cut a 48'' wide mount-board to size, or you want to cut a window mount in a 42'' white-core board with a 2'' margin, you have to have arms like an oversized male gibbon to operate the cutting head at the extreme of your cut. Either that, or erect a load-bearing gantry over your work table, so that you can clamber across the expanse of machinery to just set the stops, before you even commence cutting.
In comparison with a present day model, even my DIY model, it is, without doubt, the equivalent to driving a 1949 Austin Ruby Severn, having been used to the relative luxuries of a BMW 5 Series.
And the amazing thing is that all of the picture framers that I have ever met are all, without exception, normal people. Admittedly many are positively geriatric. Many still wear pinnies. But none of them have arms so long that their knuckles drag on the floor. (well most of them don't, anyway)
So how the hell do they operate one of these machines?
Do they fly?
Do they have remote controls?
Is this the reason for the rapid transfer to CMC's? (computerized mount cutters)
It strikes me that unless I go onto an immediate diet of bananas, and rapidly learn to swing through trees, I shan't be making an offer of the Fl****er.
It brings a whole new meaning to the expression, 'not fit for purpose'.