"I resent Fuller's degrading and disrespectful comments concerning Ohio drivers," wrote one of my fellow South Charleston residents. "I think Fuller should recognize these utterances for what they are: stupid, tasteless, erroneous and prejudicial."

Consider the lesson learned. I hereby recognize that Ohio has more to offer than its bad drivers. It's apparently also keeping pace with the rest of the country in churning out those who are easily offended.

Before I'm further accused of not liking Ohio, let me clarify that while I might not passionately love Ohio, I'm quite fond of the state. My brother, nieces and nephew live in Ohio, and it's home to one of my favorite places in the world (Hocking Hills). Seriously - what's not to like about a place that would adopt "Hang On Sloopy" as its official state rock song?

But what I really don't like has nothing at all to do with Ohio other than that the letter from its peeved defender started my wheels turning, causing me to marvel over people who are so rapidly outraged.

I was recently told about a father who was sitting quietly on the bus while his three small sons ran wild, annoying the other passengers with their loud voices and squeals. The passengers kept shooting annoyed looks at the dad, but he did nothing to rein in his boys. Finally, one snapped, harshly scolding the dad for the wildness of his children.

"I'm sorry," said the father. "We're on our way home from the hospital. Their mother just died."

It's easy to jump to conclusions and think the worst of someone without pausing to consider what might be behind their words or behavior. There are more positive things to do with our time than spend it scouring the world for signs that someone has breached the boundaries of our sensitive sensibilities. By being the first to find and cry foul, do we get to claim victim status? And does choosing to feel offended somehow obligate the "transgressor" to grant some form of compensation?

My ancestors are Polish, I grew up in Nitro, I'm the quintessential woman driver, and I was once married to an often controversial sportswriter, so trust me - I'm used to the jokes. Comfortably accustomed, as a matter of fact. Back when I was a scrawny junior high student, getting picked on and called names on a regular basis, I learned that by making the joke first, by developing a self-effacing sense of humor, I not only took the power of their cruel intentions away, but developed a thick enough skin that words didn't hurt.

When we cry foul over every transgression, real or imagined, we cause others to stop caring one way or another. The list of potential offenses has increased to a point of complete saturation, to a point where some of us are starting to say, "Fine. Be offended. See if I care."

I'm tired of walking on eggshells, of agonizing over every simple sentence I type trying to anticipate if this choice of phrasing or that attempt at humor might rub someone wrong. Even more, though, I'm finding that the Easily Offendeds are beginning to draw to the forefront the annoying little sister in me.

Aha! There's your sore spot! Now I'm going to poke it.

That doesn't mean I won't feel a bit of discomfort the next time I'm taken to task for needling someone over something I feel is fair game - like how Ohio requires its new drivers to complete 50 hours of training before being licensed (how bad does that mean their drivers must be before they start if they still drive that way after all those hours of training?) - but the way I see it, the Easily Offendeds are choosing to be a victim.

And I choose not to let myself be bothered by that.

Karin Fuller can be reached via e-mail at karinful...@cnpapers.com. Her columns can be accessed online through her blog at thegazz.com.