I have been to 45 different countries around the world, and have never been searched by customs. Never, ever, in any country, other than Canada. In Canada, it has become a part of my "welcome home" ritual.

I don't have a criminal record. I have never been arrested, suspected, or questioned in relation to any crime. I've never lost a point off my driver's license. I have never been fined for J-walking, littering, uncle abusing, or nun bating. I have never even been issued a parking ticket. So why is it, that every time I come home, Canada customs treats me with slightly less respect than your average American vigilante would treat a freshly arrived "wetback"?

Out of each plane load of people arriving in Canada, about 10 or so are sent into the special room for closer examination. If you assume a plane carries about 200 passengers, and you apply the law of averages, you could expect to be among the selected few about one in 20 times. I am currently batting at about 20 out of 20 times. Canada customs has been through my bag more often than I have. It doesn't seem like a random check anymore.

Either Canada customs has a serious fetish for my "I won't bother doing laundry cause I'll be home in three weeks anyway" underwear, or they're trying to find something which isn't there. Some of the things they can't find because I don't have them in my bag are: weapons (airport security presumably would have found them before I got on the plane), more than $10 000 CDN in cash (If I had that kind of coin I would have a nicer bag), or drugs (Haven't you been paying attention? I get searched every time I go through customs, do you think I'm retarded?) I can therefore only assume, that Canadian customs has a panicky fear that I will someday, with malice of forethought, try to smuggle fresh fruits and/or vegetables into the country.

It is not unlike being back in school. While all the other passengers get to run out to their waiting friends/famillies/car services, I have to go to the detention room with all the other losers. Then I get to spend an hour or so with somebody whose job it is to ruin my life. Nothing would make them happier than to find a couple of kilos of coke wrapped up in that cardigan sweater my auntie knitted for me. Why? because that way they could send me to jail for a long time. Fantastic. They get a promotion, and my chances of ever having a career, holding public office, or running for Pope, are flushed down the drain.

So why me? A clean cut, middle class kid, with no criminal record, who has been unsuccessfully searched more times than Loch Ness? I even happen to have secret clearance from the Canadian government. My brother is a Major in the Canadian army who is currently serving his country (?) in Afghanistan. My father, grandfather, and great grandfather have all worn the uniform of this nation. Why are they so certain that I plan to someday transgress against the laws of Canada? God knows. But when that day comes, they'll be ready. By God they'll be ready.