After having a delivery stolen, John investigates how to keep his packages secure.

To thank his elderly landlord for all the times she has cooked and cleaned for him, John attempts to make her favorite dish.

John's discovery of the deeply-embedded rituals and bonding in sports leads to a greater appreciation of the game.

As the availability of public restrooms dwindles in NYC, John tries to find clever ways to relieve himself.

John Wilson taps into his "Memory Palace" for an unforgettable exploration into our ability – or inability – to remember things.

After years of rooting his life in non-fiction, John drifts from the world of rational thought in hopes of finally remembering his dreams.

John Wilson offers a unique history of New York's hideous yet sprawling network of overhead "protection," otherwise known as scaffolding – and contemplates what it might take to reduce its nearly 300-mile eyesore presently overtaking the city.

John Wilson reflects on the delicate balancing act of making – and safely redirecting – casual conversation, highlighting the rewards and risks of small talk.

John reflects on the competitive and complex process of parking in NYC, where the possibilities opened by having a car comes with a catch.

Seeking a solution to the universal conundrum of battery disposal, John ponders the value of things we hold onto – and what we throw away.