This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

My family — all 17 of us — survived a trip to Alberta, Canada. We arrived home battered and exhausted last week. It's taken this long to unpack, rest up and resume speaking to each other.

Aside from the constant radio and cellphone calls to coordinate the family convoy, nothing really untoward happened until we reached the border and tried to pass through Canadian customs.

There was a long line at the border. When it was finally our turn to produce our passports to the customs agent in the drive-up window, he threw me a curve.

"Do you have any weapons in the vehicle, sir?"

I paused. Weapons? What was he referring to? I didn't have any guns, but the car was full of weapons.

I had a pocket knife. Then there was a tire iron, a Leatherman multi-tool, an unfired .22-magnum cartridge that Sonny left in my change box, a really pointy dental pick, and a bowling ball wrapped in barbed wire from a fence it went through. Did he mean those?

This pause set off the officer's threat radar. His eyes narrowed and he leaned closer.

Him: "You seemed to hesitate there, sir. Are you carrying any weapons?"

Me: "Well, I could poke somebody's eye out with this plastic knife from McDonald's."

My wife [punching me in the shoulder]: "Sorry, officer. He only hesitated because he has a huge imagination and he's not very smart."

The officer wasn't worried. Neither was he satisfied. He ran down a list of things that were illegal to bring into Canada.

Were there any firearms, stun guns, explosives, attack animals, napalm, poison, bear traps, plutonium or pepper spray in the vehicle?

"I have these condiment packages of pepper. Do they count?"

When he had finally wrung an apologetic "no" out of me, the officer returned our passports, gave my wife a look of profound sympathy, and said, "Welcome to Canada."

What is the big deal about disarming the public from anything that could remotely be used to hurt ourselves or others? I understand the guns and explosives concern, but pepper spray? Really?

I know it hurts. I've had it used on me. But when was the last time pepper spray was a hostage-taking weapon of choice? Conversely, it makes perfect to carry a nonlethal form of defense while driving through remote places.

I can't remember how many fingernail clippers and mini Swiss Army knives I've had to surrender to TSA. It's my fault. I never look at these items and think "weapon."

Incidentally, I'm not blaming the agents at security gates for taking them away from me. They're just following the orders someone else makes intending to turn the public into harmless adult versions of barely continent toddlers.

I'm not kidding. How much longer before we start being asked what we had for lunch before being allowed onto an aircraft or into another country?

"And do you, sir or ma'am, intend to have a bowel movement while you're in the country or aboard the aircraft?"

Driving north from the border, I got a 20-minute lecture from my wife on the hazards of bureaucracy baiting in a foreign country. As long as we were in her homeland, I was to shut up and let her answer all questions or risk getting hurt.

My mistake. When the customs agent asked if there were any weapons in the car, I should have pointed at the woman sitting next to me.

Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley.