On a cold January afternoon, I was surfing through the cable channels. It was a break from figuring out how two nineteenth century Norwegians were related to my grandmother. There are times when even TV can be attractive. As I flipped through the channels, I came across a rerun of a show I'd never seen, "Late Night with Conan O'Brien." Conan, the host, was sitting next to a dark-haired, stunningly plain-featured young woman. I paused, my finger on the remote. Then the untypical talk show guest said something amusing and droll. I kept watching. She kept saying amusing things with a straight face that rivaled Lincoln's bust at Mt. Rushmore. I learned that this person was called Sarah Vowell. She's a history nerd. She is a radio nerd. She writes about music. All kinds of music. Interesting, but not compelling. The following Saturday I was again looking to the cable networks for relief. Who should I see on C-SPAN, reading from her latest book but Sarah Vowell. I listened. She reads her words like she talks to Conan O'Brien -- flat, droll, funny, and insightful. I particularly enjoyed her essay about visiting Gettysburg on the 137th anniversary of Lincoln's famous speech. So, I went online and reserved her book, Partly Cloudy Patriot, at the library. A few days later, someone from the library called to tell me the book was available. Now, I've read it. I was amused and almost inspired by her essays. They are not hilarious. They are vivid. I liked them. She also does pieces for National Public Radio's "This American Life." I may try to find out when this program is broadcast. Here's a sample of Sarah Vowell's words. This is from "Tom Landry, Existentialist, Dead at 75." "...Before Sartre, before Camus, there was Tom Landry. He introduced me to existentialism. "Tom Landry was my first entrÈe into dread: nagging, doubting, gnawing fear. And I'm not even referring to the '79 Super Bowl, in which I crumpled onto the living room carpet and wept as my beloved Cowboys -- oh, Roger Staubach, quarterback, my quarterback -- lost to the Pittsburgh Steelers. The wound is still so fresh that to this day I change the channel every time the then Steelers quarterback Terry Bradshaw's smug and shining pate pops out of my TV. "...from my Landry comic book I had my first inkling of the being and nothingness that was my birthright...He said that despite the wins, the love, the success, the family...something was missing...I gasped. I thanked the Lord for my certainty, which was the certainty of Tom Landry -- faith in God, in the Cowboys, in America. It never occurred to me that something might be missing, and so I prayed every night that when I grew up, nothing would be missing. Prayed that prayer every night up until the day I lost my faith in God. And, Tom Landry would be happy to know, something has been missing ever since, different things at different times...Every day, I wake up and wonder, What will be missing today?" This was decent mid-winter reading. It might be good summer reading. If a droll, hip, female Garrison Keillor (sans the imaginary townãher hometown is Bozeman, Montana) sounds intriguing, check out Sarah Vowell's Partly Cloudy Patriot. (The title, by the way is a nod to Thomas Paine's famous essay. That's the kind of history nerd she is.) The book is especially appropriate if you want to read about Vowell's reflections on Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, Bill Clinton's Presidential library, the French Revolution, the Salem witch trials, Al Gore's political vulnerabilities, citizenship, George II's inauguration, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the film career of Tom Cruise, the cafeteria at the bottom of Carlsbad Cavern's elevator, the RCMP, the American Revolution, and vacationing in North Dakota. The Northfield library has it. Yours probably does too.