Monday, July 11, 2011

Oops, My Bad, er, My Glock I Mean

Thomas Grassia, (pic) a Natick, Massachussets attorney makes the news for leaving something more embarrasing than his wallet in the bathroom.  Here's reporter Norman Miler's story from the MetroWest Daily News:

A Natick attorney admitted in Framingham District Court yesterday that he accidentally left a loaded gun in an office bathroom in May.  Thomas Grassia, 64, of Wayland, admitted there were sufficient facts to find him guilty of the improper storage of a firearm. That admission is not a guilty plea.

On May 10, police went to 5 Commonwealth Ave., Natick, an office building that is home to Grassia's law office. Someone had called police and said they found a gun in a fourth-floor bathroom, according to a police report filed in Framingham District Court.

Officers found the loaded 9mm Glock 26 on a toilet paper dispenser in one of the bathroom stalls. No one in the building knew who the gun belonged to, police said.

The same day, Grassia called police and said he had left the gun there accidentally while using the bathroom. Grassia had a gun permit at the time [ . . . ]

Judge James Barretto fined Grassia $500, placed him on administrative probation for one year and said he could not carry a gun during his probation.

This is not Grassia's first brush with the law.

The U.S. Court of Appeals last month upheld a federal judge's ruling that Framingham Police did not violate Grassia's constitutional rights when they arrested him in 2004.

Even though the criminal harassment and witness intimidation charges against Grassia were later dismissed, the detectives who obtained a warrant and arrested Grassia at his Natick law office acted reasonably, a panel of appellate judges ruled.
Ouch, how to get some old stuff dredged up. 

Personally, I don't get the whole gun thing as I suggested many times, here, at Bad Lawyer.  My lunatic father handed out shotguns one Christmas when my brother and I were 13 and 14 and took us hunting.  I shot a rabbit that did not immediately die.  My father beat its brains out.  I was so disgusted I never went hunting again.  At 17 I went into the US Army and shot lots and lots of weapons as part of my MOS (military occupational specialty) as a M60-A1 tanker.  Maybe I got it out of my system, but I've no interest in guns, weapons, or armament of any sort. 

Then there is my healthy fear.  I read about the idiots like this bozo who showing off a gun at a Memorial Day picnic kills himself, or this Darwinian triumph who kills himself demonstrating the safety features of his nifty new handgun by pointing it at his head and pulling the trigger.

What is the obsession?  As I write this, another mass murder drama is unfolding in Grand Rapids, Michigan, but I can assure you that the preemptive pushback by the NRA and its cadre of political and media elites is already underway.  God forbid that we the people ever come ot our collective senses over the need to fondle our guns...even while we're in the shitter.


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