Review on Mount Bracket Motion Capacity EXTENSION by Frank Webster

This is a great mount for the price! But guys, seriously, read the guide! Installation. It's the devil's TV mount. I mean if you have a 1 inch plywood wall that needs to be bolted that's easy, but if you have drywall or 100 year old plaster and battens like we do you need a bolt. finder. The Story: I have a teenage boy. He's a gamer or wants to be, but I refuse to spend huge sums of money on video games, so he has to buy his own. One thing I spend money on is RockSmith because the kid has been playing guitar for three years and is phenomenal, got him an old 42 inch flat screen and now there's no room for it on the table. Then he pestered me for a month to buy him a wall mount. (Honestly, this has to be the heaviest LCD I've ever seen, and I'm not a weak little girl!) I resisted buying a TV mount because I wanted to paint his room and we wanted to paint mine at the house Grandma and my grandfather live. The house is 100 years old, the walls are all plastered. I've been taught my whole life to NEVER drill holes in plasterboard walls! They hang things on existing anchors. If you make a hole in the wall, it would be better if it was forever - this cornice, picture, mirror, plaque, etc. will stay there forever. If it's not the right size or shape for the screw, hang it somewhere else! And you'd better have a big drill, because all the studs are aged oak, which is about the hardness of, well, STONE. But my husband has a masonry drill and managed to do all sorts of repairs on my grandfather's pre-Civil War woodshed, so I thought, how bad can that get? Even with the husband's (frustrating) overindulgence in energy drinks that often leave him absent-minded in the evenings, and the tester's ADHD, "X" accent, and their tendency to put each other in a manic mood when both the case is are in jail. in the same small space. Mounting TVs is the husband and caretaker's job, not mine. So I ordered a mount that I thought every teenager would die for. I ordered it on Thursday morning, which means it should have been delivered with Prime's two-day (or rather three-four-day) shipping on Monday. I made the mistake of telling a teenager that I told him to leave me alone, but then all weekend he just harassed me to track information. It's Monday and he must have checked the front step 22 times for packages and berated the cat from the outside which turned out to be the exact same color as the package and loves to lie on the steps posing as a package because he knows we can't distinguish the package. Difference due to the bevelled glass door. The package arrived and he immediately threw the packing material across the living room, dumping the rest of the contents onto the sofa so he could look at the box that contained the mount. I didn't have it opened because the immature frontal lobes can't lose the small pieces. He then had to wait for his father, who doesn't work on Mondays, to come back from tearing down and rebuilding the barn so they could install it. I left her at that. Bad idea. Soon I notice that someone is drowning up and down the stairs. I hear someone going in and out through the attic door, I'm guessing to look at the other side of the wall. I hear drilling, knocking and cursing. There is debate about the mount not reclined - they shove it in my face - at this point I'm wondering if they even looked at the instructions, reaching for the box that's still on the sofa and the original one , never finding unfolded instructions inside the box, which I happily wave at their shy faces and point to a diagram explaining how to tilt the mount. So I'm finally going upstairs. Bad idea. There is not only a coin-sized hole in the plaster, where the existing screw for hanging the picture has been for sixty years, but also two other, slightly smaller, large holes below it, pencil marks everywhere, plaster splinters everywhere and dirty paper plates everywhere, half-empty water bottles, soda cans and bags of chips , which is fine, but it still pisses me off. The holes are offset slightly to the left and did not fit the pin. Because drilling into hard stone posts requires a larger drill bit, they had to use larger screws than those included in the kit, so the holes were larger than usual. As I stand, my husband drills TWO MORE HOLES in Grandma's cast and I can literally feel her roll over in her coffin, ready to break out and grab them both bare. And now they're so irritable and exhausted that they almost turn it on their heads before I stop them. (But to be honest, I'm pretty sure they would have noticed before they started screwing it to the wall. Hopefully.) Whoever picked it up couldn't see what they were doing. In case you didn't know, the laws of physics are such that if you hold a 35-pound television some distance from your body, over $300 worth of small monitors, keyboards and controllers, and a few open cans of candy citric acid drinks, My beloved Games Season 5 DVD Box Set Thrones, which the writer is not allowed TO TOUCH, suddenly weighs 2,000 pounds. Is that so. Ask Stephen Hawking. After a very tense few moments with the cameraman and I sitting on tiptoe over a table, our faces pressed against the wall, trying to guide a £4,000 TV onto a tiny loop, EUREKA! SUCCESS! HERE! The TV sits firmly on the wall and hasn't fallen off for about two weeks. You can tilt, tilt and rotate it 90 degrees which is good because now my husband has a lot of patching to do. Some offerings to the spirits of my ancestors would be wise. Grandpa prefers cake.