You've heard of "damning with faint praise," right -- when someone who, for instance, thinks the Mona Lisa sucks, they say something like "DaVinci's choice of color was appropriate for the subject matter."
There's also such a thing as "praising with faint damns." Usually that's what you do when talking about your own stuff.
Jane says: "Jim, I really like your [painting, novel, song, whatever]!"
Jim says: "Thanks Jane, that means alot to me. But I was frustrated at not being able to achieve [super-impressive sounding] effect right here."
Watch for it: you'll notice this all the time.
Yes, thank you, I'm glad you like my weblog, but I'm frustrated at not being able to insert a witty quip right here.
Continuing a thread from yesterday, more slow things Americans do:
Gardening is huge. More than baseball, gardening is the nation's past-time.
We also read alot of books. Books are big.
I'm tempted to list car racing as an example of slowness. Yes, the cars themselves are moving fast, but if you watch a race you'll note that the relative positions of cars can remain static for long periods of time. It's Wagnerian. Glacial. Like baseball, an hour can go by where nothing happens.