In which astronauts and cosmonauts smuggle sandwiches, golf clubs, harmonicas, collectibles, and ashes into orbit, and John wants to blow bubbles on the Moon. Certificate #54825.

In which a Cantonese restaurant in San Franciscos's Chinatown spreads American revolving-table technology worldwide, and Ken wonders how long it takes to get sick of a musician in your spare bedroom. Certificate #43576.

In which ancient sorcery, changeling myths, and Edwardian fads combine to create America's only homegrown childhood rite of passage, and John's dentist turns teeth into boats. Certificate #19230.

In which telephone users once had access to a surprising array of helpful and informative services, and Ken got rid of his landline to spite Al-Qaeda. Certificate #26038.

In which an ancient linguistic and religious practice becomes a jaunty, ambulatory musical form before falling into decline, and John does not want to see condors in a hospital. Certificate #45133.

In which centuries of sterilization-happy doomsayers fail to predict a game-changing revolution in wheat, and Ken thinks Pakistan wants John to clean out his fridge. Certificate #2037.

In which dozens of national sleeping guys with long beards wait in caves for their countries to need them again, and John thinks Tom Cruise should not be in a courtyard. Certificate #53610.

In which conservative Sun Belt retirees and progressive urbanists agree on a nostalgic but radical revolution in city design, and Ken does a Norman Rockwell impression. Certificate #34959.

In which a Thracian slave from two thousand years earlier becomes a proletarian role model and Communist sports hero, and John prefers action stars with boogers. Certificate #37084.

In which the long war between alternating and direct current produces power outlets that multiply nto a dizzying world of configurations, and Ken needs a grounding prong. Certificate #29673.