George Washington schlepped here. Created in Dusseldorf, Germany, riddled with historical errors, and depicting a journey to that great butt of transit jokes, New Jersey, Emmanuel Leutze's epic painting of George Washington Crossing the Delaware has a lot going against it. But never mind, it's an icon, and like all good icons, it rewards contemplation. Here's something to think about as you ponder the tiny embossed version on the new commemorative quarter: the surprising diversity of the good general's crew. Sure, they're of one gender, but among the oarsmen you'll find an African, a Native American, fellows wearing costume that appears to be French and Scottish, as well as other generic "American" types (in buckskin garb and non-). Stare at the painting long enough, and you almost expect to see a Chinese guy jump out from behind the anachronistic flag. And what lesson might all of this teach? Well if you're feeling patriotic, "we're all from different places but in the same boat". Or, on the other hand, "poor folks of every race do the work while the white guy in the expensive suit gets the glory". Washington's not in danger of being forgotten, so from now on perhaps we might refer to this great painting as Prince Whipple Crossing the Delaware.

Funny thing about hobbies. They start out as pleasant diversions, but as they get more and more engrossing, they can seem, to the outside observer, a bit sad. You wonder: is it really a good thing to devote so much of one's time and livelihood to, say, Pac-Man collectibles? But if you waste enough time on a project, if your obsession becomes even more consuming, sometimes what you end up with is not a waste, but something beautiful, even astounding. Such seems to be the case with Joe Bussard, collector of obscure 78rpm recordings from the 1920s and 30s -- old-time country, bluegrass, jazz, gospel, and blues. Jug bands, cajun trios, the Rev. J.M. Gates, Tiny Parham and his Musicians, Viola Barlette, Wilmer Watts and the Lonely Eagles, you get the picture. Joe's meticulously catalogued collection runs 25,000 acetate recordings. And for $15, he'll personally make you a mix tape of any 20 of the songs he has. Head to his site, vintage78.com, and be amazed.

Warm, fuzzy, and undeniably cool. A lot of nature conservation seems to work on a trickle-down theory: find a photogenic creature or landscape, publicize the threat to such, and the resulting contributions will help the sorts of species you'll never see on a "Save the Planet" poster. Thus has the polar bear, arguably nature's cutest carnivore, been used to highlight the threat of global warming to Arctic ice. According to the Canadian WWF, the situation is dire indeed, with declining numbers of starving, stranded bears. Unfortunately, countered Canada's National Post last week, it's just not true. Data indicates that polar bears are thriving, and the WWF is just using the cuties to get press for an otherwise boring issue ("The ice ... it's ... shrinking!!"). The real question, of course, is How do the bears feel about all this? Perhaps it's time for an interview.

Charming Billy. According to the government job description, the U.S. Poet Laureate "serves as the nation's official lightning rod for the poetic impulse of Americans." This is probably not the best way to put it, since it implies that the Laureate's job is to attract the dangerous forces of Poetry and channel them safely underground before anyone gets shocked or set afire. Anyway, the Poet Laureate for this year is one Billy Collins, composer of many sensitive, affable, and at times quite beautiful poems. Favorites I've come across include "Litany", "Man Listening to Disc", "Walking across the Atlantic", and the coy "Reading an Anthology of Chinese Poems of the Sung Dynasty, I Pause To Admire the Length and Clarity of Their Titles". To a one they are approachable -- a good thing in a poem, particularly one by a sanctioned spokesperson for poetry. Is it, though, too good a thing? The poems at times remind me of the sort of "deep thought lite" that one finds in writing designed for intelligent but busy people. But if we're too preoccupied to tackle more challenging poets, isn't it still better than not to be able to enjoy something along the lines of Collins' "Another Reason Why I Don't Keep a Gun in the House"? Maybe.