This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated.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.

St. George • I spent two days at the Utah Sheriffs' Association conference. It was an eye-opening experience even without the embarrassing part where I slammed my thumb in the bolt of a new Glock G43.

The annual sheriffs' conference features a variety of speakers, training and vendor booths intended to keep law enforcement up to date on the latest methods and tools of crime fighting.

Note: By crime fighting, I mean the process of ensuring that the public is kept safe by offering each of us, regardless of how much we might think of ourselves, the choice of obeying the law or getting our butts kicked.

Seriously, it's called law en-FORCE-ment for a reason. It's up to us how far we're willing to push things. I have personally witnessed an idiot turn a speeding ticket into five years in prison, and another transform a debate on the Constitution into 30 days in jail and a $2,000 fine.

Yes, I know. You may well be the baddest guy in your neighborhood, with an entire basement full of assault rifles, gas masks, and MREs in order to hold out against the law, but I'm betting that you don't have an air force.

If you don't think the federal government is capable of unleashing total war on law breakers, then you also haven't heard of the Civil War. Americans killed a million other Americans over the enforcement of laws.

Never mind that. Let's stick with basic, day-to-day operation of law enforcement. Common tools of the trade, so to speak. What's new in police work that I might have to get used to?

There was heavy emphasis on jails and other correctional facilities at this conference, the idea being to lock people up for prolonged periods and keep them from eating each other out of boredom.

The equipment consisted of stronger disinfectants, thicker disposable gloves, gadgets to peer inside those parts of prisoners that now serve as their wallets and purses, and then inmate clothing so garish it would stand out in a Mardi Gras parade.

There were also items that would allow inmates some access to email and other parts of the internet. Games, snacks, school items and toiletries difficult to turn into weapons.

The latest in sheriff vehicles were on display, including my personal favorite — a bondage van. It was more accurately called a prisoner transfer vehicle. Even so, it was full of cages, shackles and other restraints. The only thing that made it look like it wasn't owned by a dominatrix was the white paint job.

Other vendor booths featured educational opportunities, uniforms, knives, insurance, guns, lights, scopes, computers and badges.

My purpose for being at the convention in the first place is my association with the board of directors for the Utah Law Enforcement Memorial.

When I wasn't cruising the other vendors, I sat in a booth surrounded by the photos of 139 Utah police officers killed in the line of duty. Whenever sheriffs, deputies and other cops stopped by, I told them to go away and never come back. I don't want to sit in front of their pictures someday.

It was the first sheriffs' conference I attended with my youngest daughter, who is also a member of the law enforcement memorial board. Midway through the conference, she told me she was interested in a handgun for home defense.

We walked over to the Glock booth so I could give her the benefit of my police experience with handguns. Glocks weren't around when I was a cop, but a gun is a gun. Right?

I picked up a pistol and explained how important it was to make sure that it was unloaded. That's when I slammed the bolt shut on my thumb. I yelled, cursed, bled and felt incredibly embarrassed.

"I'll take that one," my daughter said to the vendor.

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