Another trace gone

This weekend we (my beer, eh, dear assistant, JS, and myself) disassembled and removed Liam's  ceiling lift system.  This system was installed when Liam was still at her best - and getting too heavy for my broken back.  It really changed our life.  We no longer had to lift Liam ourselves, awkwardly, for all the different transfers: from bed to the wheelchair, to the toilet/shower, to the floor - and the other way around.  Before the lift it was getting too difficult and often too dangerous.  A little slip in the shower could have ended in a disaster.  Fortunately, this never happen, but it was pure luck.  Also, most operations required the two of us.  The lift allowed one person to safely give Liam full care.

In the beginning, as much as we loved it, Liam was suspicious of this new device.  But with time she got used to it and I think she even liked it.  It gave her a sense of adulthood (maybe) - getting her privacy "there" like the rest of us; although she was completely depended on a facilitator for the transfer, we no longer carried a teenager like a baby.  I think Liam appreciated that.  

For several years now we tried to donate the system, but with no luck.  There were no takers. Now that we dismounted it, I can see why.  It is not easy to install, it has to be done by an experienced and authorized professional.  Additionally, this system was modified for the specific layout of Liam's room.  It would take further modifications and customizations to fit a different setup.  (The lift is sitting disassembled on the floor.  If anybody who reads this post know of a family or an institution who might be able to use it - despite the challenges -  please speak now.  Otherwise it's going to scrap metal.)

We thought it would be an easy job.  Open 15-30 nuts and you're done.  Ah, hmm, NO!  Easy it was not.  JS said it best: "The funny thing with kids is that they keep you busy even when they're not around....the gift that keeps on giving."  How true.

So anyway, now the system is down and the holes are patched and the walls are on their way to be fully repaired (I just LOVE working with sheetrock....the messy joint compound, the thin white dust that infiltrate every corner of the house....fun, fun, fun...)  But while I'm happy to see it gone, I can't help but also feel a small pinch in my heart.  Another piece of Liam is gone.  

Get rid of unwelcomed update - Mac

I;m writing this post for the benefit of poor souls like me, who get stuck with this weird thing.

Recently a strange thing showed up on my Macbook Pro (10.8.4): An update for an app called "Itsy" - apparently some type of twitter flavor.

But what the hell is Itsy?  A search on the entire computer revealed nothing.  I couldn't find it and could not get rid of the update suggestion.  Just for the sport I thought to accept the update and see what happens.  This is what happened:

What the ....?

But now I had something I could google.  Sure enough, I got plenty of hits with similar complaints - but none identical.  I was back to square one.  I called Apple support.  After 2-3 days of interaction with senior third tier support who couldn't help, I was able to find somebody at itsyapp.com.  This guy could not help either, but his google yielded better results than mine.  He sent me here and wished me luck.  The instructions in that link did not work for me, but were close enough for me to try something,  So here it goes:

 Open terminal.

su -

As root, changed directory to / (or maybe it was /Volumes/Macintosh HD, I can't remember).

Next:     

     $ find . -name receipt > /tmp/receipt.res

This yielded two results.  

From the command prompt I executed the 'strings' command on each file.

                    $  strings <file name> | less
         

One of the files contained the string Itsy.  BINGO!

It was named "/Applications/Chopper 2/..../receipt".

At this point I simply located "Chopper 2" in the finder and dragged it to trash.

Emptied trash.

Rebooted.

Problem gone.