How The West Was Won

The Canon NP process relied on cadmium sulfide drums, which were, in a sense, the first “organic” drums and sealed in mylar. Canon made a huge improvement when the NP-80 came out, which could print on lots of different papers, although still liquid. It employed a unique way of applying toner to the drum and of removing excess liquid. The little NP-50 came out over a year before that and sold for $2,975.00, which made it the lowest cost PPC on the market. We sold a bunch for $2,895.00. It was quiet and reliable with a moving top. It appealed to people who really wanted plain paper at the lowest price. These same buyers, today, go to Staples for $400.00 machines.

 I coin-operated a couple NP-50’s, which was quite a trick. The print button operated a lever that struck a switch and held it until physically released by the action of the moving platen. I couldn’t just make an electrical contact to initiate a copy cycle – it had to be mechanical. I devised a little solenoid and cable system that would physically pull the print switch down from inside the machine. Our Canon rep at the time was Phil Corbett, one of the great gentlemen of the copier industry. He told his dealer in Burlington, Vermont that I had figured out how to do it and they ordered one, which I made and delivered to them.

 When the NP-80 came out the NP-60 was introduced, too, which was a faster, more rugged NP-50 with a seamless drum like the ’80. Around 1984 Canon came out with the model 5000 console. The NP5000 was a dry-toner version of the Canon liquid process. It was a big machine with two paper trays, cadmium sulfide drum but still no original feeder. Soon afterwards they introduced the NP5500 that had reduction and enlargement. We placed two of those, too.

 I chose to attend the one-week NP-80 school in Lake Success, New York. There were 20 of us staying in what could be termed an “inexpensive” motel. Each morning a bus took us to Canon. A Japanese guy was the instructor. He had very good English and was a gentleman. I did my best to be the best in the class. I was trying to grasp what every component actually did. The two fellows I was teamed with, and I, did very well on the tests and the labs. I have always been able to grasp most mechanical operations and the relationships between systems. We had a good, technical time.

 On Friday we took the main test, which was no problem and they took us to dinner at a Japanese restaurant, strangely enough. But it was very pleasant. During the evening I asked our instructor if he would meet me at Canon on Saturday morning because I had more questions and my flight was not until about 1:30. He said he would and I told him I would have the van drop me there before it took the others to the airport. He agreed that he could take me to the airport around noon time. At about 8:00 AM I was in front of the Canon building with my suitcase. There were no cars anywhere around the building and I figured I was early. “Soji” never did come, and by 10:00 o’clock, with no way to call him and very little cash, I began to walk to anyplace that had a phone booth. I found one and called home to explain my plight, then called the livery company to ask the cost from Lake Success to the airport, and it was more than I had. They told me one of their stops where the rate was a few dollars less, and how to get there.

 I walked, shifting my suitcase and jacket from hand to hand, an hour and a half along a parkway until I could see the diner they’d described. I had enough money to call the airport livery company to confirm my ride and enough for some cereal and coffee and a tip, plus a buck for the livery and for the baggage guy at the airport. That was it. They finally came and I made my flight - my grimmest Saturday ever. But I knew more about the NP-80 than anyone else that week.

 The NP-80 was 32 copies per minute. We put big sorters in front of them and I even coin-operated a couple of them – one for NECC, which needed another trick to cover the paper cassettes, but they worked pretty well.

 All during the period from 1978 to 1984 we, and most other dealers, sold a mix of machines in order to compile a complete line. We had a couple of Canons, a couple of Toshibas, and a couple of MITAs. The first Mitas we sold were the DC-161’s at 16 copies a minute, 11 by 17 and about 180 pounds. Then came the 162 and 232 models, at 16 and 23 copies per minute, respectively, and dual cassettes. No document feeders, at first, no reduction or enlargement, but they were strong, rugged machines.

 At a NOMDA show in Las Vegas, Mita was inviting dealers up to a suite in the hotel where there was a DC232 with a document feeder on it. It was made in California in a company formed by a big dealership. They called it “Bomco,” believe it or not. The Feeder was designed to fit the Mitas and it seemed to work. Indeed, when the actual Mita-manufactured document feeder came out, it looked an awful lot like the Bomco product. The Mita product worked, however, setting it apart from the pieces of crap Bomco sold us. We purchased two of them for $750.00 each.

 After losing two sales in the field trying to demonstrate the feeder, we realized the pickle we were in, but there was no satisfaction from Bomco – who soon disappeared - or its parent company. Mita, of course, had no responsibility for a third-party product. The worst effect was that I had sold a 161 to a major medical group in anticipation of this feeder’s arrival. I had to go to the woman with whom I had done a lot of business as the practice grew, and tell her that I did not, in fact have a feeder I could sell her. I explained the loss we had suffered with the feeders and that the last thing I wanted to do was install a clearly faulty product. By then they had run the 161 for about 4 months and they kept it, but she never forgave me for misleading her. Today that group has expanded to own a major rehabilitation hospital and three or four other offices and I still can’t sell them a product.